


For What It's Worth...

by rextexx



Series: Helmet Party [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Eventual Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Smut, Yee the whole gang is here, graphic description of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 111,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6937108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rextexx/pseuds/rextexx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My own take on how Helmet Party may would develope</p><p>“Ah, well, err...ah should have told'cha long before, but – ya did some mighty fine job out there, pardner.”<br/>It seems like that feeds the Soldier's ego well enough. He shifts back into his position, and chuckles in his throat, a low mhh-mhh, before he adds: “I KNOW that, maggot.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disciplining

**Author's Note:**

> Well, where do i start with this...?  
> This lil' unfinished piece was floating around my laptop for almost a year now, after i started this around beginning of twenty fifteen. Since then, i pretty much forgot it even existed until i found it, and thought "Hey, why did i never publish this actually...?"
> 
> So here we are.  
> This is pretty much one of my first multi-chaptered fanfictions with solid storyline. I hope to finish this, since i have been developing this idea for a while now. We'll see how it goes ;)

_For what it's worth, I like you_  
_And what is worse I really do_  
_Things have been worse_  
_And we had fun fun fun_  
_'Till I said 'I love you '_  
_And for what is worth, I really do_

 

„Men, here are the facts as I understand them. One; That was an amazing killing spree. Two – BY THE OTHER TEAM!!”  
  
He had flung around so quickly, the group of eight men cringed simultaneously.  
“You are the worst, the most terrible, most sorriest excuses for mercenaries I have ever goddamn seen! You call yourself soldiers? HAH! You make me laugh! I have seen more teamspirit and action in a graveyard than here!”  
The ill-fitted helmet swayed over his hidden face as he charged forwards with his finger raised. His victim of verbal assault was now the Spy.  
  
“You french, frog-brained slug-sucker are not man enough to fight in MY team! And you, you goddamn Robin Hood hippie – you're supposed to SHOOT people! SHOOT! Not throw your piss at them and hope the stench of cowardice will make them go blind!” Spy and Sniper sucked on their cigarettes, unimpressed. The american had figured out by now that trying to lure an expression out of them was hard, harder at least compared to the rest. He didn't dwell on trying today.  
  
No, he had a job to do, the job to yell and gripe at each and everyone of his teammates, and throw as many insults his obviously tiny brain could come up with.  
  
“If you would pull your ass outta your whiskybottle once and start doing your job maybe we WON'T LOSE NEXT TIME!” that assault was directed to the demoman, who instantly burst into tears, slurred into his hands, sobbing and whining like a tortured dog. _Disgusting._ Soldier scowled at the man and moved on. How could he ever become friends with such a kind, he wondered, remembering back to the days when his counterpart on the red team used to be at his side, at least, for a short time. At least one thing was clear as sunshine to him regarding that situation – that RED was definitely not such a big crybaby like the scotsman on his team, and that whenever he killed the enemy, he would feel the sweet, sweet feeling of revenge, every smack of his shovel, every bullets piercing throw their bodies, every rocket tearing them apart and launching their bloodsoaked bodyparts over the battlefield...  
  
But today however, was not such a day, for BLU had lost once again.  
  
And if you would have asked the Soldier about whose fault that was, he wouldn't hesitate to lift his finger and point them at his own crew. And only at his crew. He? No, he never made mistakes, he was american after all, the most glorious fighter america has ever seen – the fact that he had spent most of the time collecting ripped off heads from the battefield instead of capturing ( 'leave that to the boston boy' he had declared) was of course not conducing to their eventual failure.  
He moved on.  
  
“And YOU two, you make me goddamn sick!” Medic and Heavy shared a skeptical glance. In their eyes, they had been doing most of the work, and not such a bad one as well. “Next time I see you two fruitbaskets making out in a barn instead of capturing, I will shove my goddamn shovel up BOTH YOUR ASSES!” Nothing but a sneer was the doctors and infantrymans only answer on that. That the Soldier was not quite as delighted over the obvious relationship those two had than the rest was nothing new to an of the mercenaries – that he openly complained and threw insults and jokes at them was predictable.  
  
The german could feel it in the way Soldier kept turning away and back at them, moved from one feet back to the other that there had been a few more things he was planing on throwing at the two of them, but gave up shortly before and continued to move his rage further, to the next mercenary, who happened to be the unlucky one by the name of scout.  
“YOU! You goddamn uselesss piece of crap!” he empathized the word “crap” with a kick in the boys guts.  
“AUGH! OH, what the hell?!” Scout groaned, holding his stomach. Soldier's paw gripped the boy by the thatch of blonde hair and pulled him up on his eyesight. Soldier always found especial joy in bullying the youngest member with unnecessary kicks, punches, or any kinds and ways of abuse.  
  
“What is your purpose boy?” he growled.  
“What the hell is your problem, you old fart---?” - “ _I ASK THE QUESTIONS, PUNK!_ ”  
  
Soldier had his riding crop snatched from the floor and with a wide wing, smacked the leather against Scout's face. Burning pain spread on the boys temple and he cried out. “WHAT IS YOUR GODDAMN PURPOSE?!”  
After Scout didn't answer on that rather confusing question, Soldier dropped him. “Your purpose is to take your slimy hand outta your boxers and CAPTURE THE POINTS! _DID I STUTTER?_ ”  
  
Without registering the Scouts answer, he moved to the masked person, gripping him by the collar. “Hmph!?” Pyro yelped. “YOU, smoky joe, you better have a better reason than your goddamn frilly bra getting stuck in your overall for not SPYCHECKING!”  
“Now now, Sal, Pyro had been a good aid for me. He caught more spies than ya have--”  
“DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SPEAK, _MAGGOT!?_ ” Soldier hollered at the Engineer that had dared to interfere. “ I don't think so! You wait in line for me to get to your sorry ass, or YOU'LL REGRET IT!”  
  
Soldier let go of Pyro, who stumbled and tried to catch balance from hanging one or two feet above the floor a second ago. “YOU! You're a wuss!” he pointed at scout. “YOU! You fight like a goddamn girl! AND YOU---”That was the moment the military man reached the last, and smallest mercenary. The engineer. Soldier had his finger extended, pointed at the mechanic, lips curled over his teeth in a snarl. But his rampage found a final and abrupt end at the texan, for he paused a little too long to indicate a dramatic pause. He softened, visibly, and neither knew if that was a good, or a bad sign.  
  
Engineer's shoulders squared in anticipation of the following verbal assault the military man had prepared for him – but it never came. However, Engineer didn't flinch, didn't feel attacked or assaulted at the fierce gaze the other man cast on him. Heck, he didn't even shy away from moving a small step forwards, redyeing himself for the argue that would start between them two.  
“Yeah – and me? What'cha gotta say ta me, boy?” he hissed back. Green eyes, hidden beneath toned glass, pierced through the metal over Soldier' face.  
  
After a moment or two, Soldier then sighed, air puffing out of his lungs, and his arm slumped down powerlessly to his side. Engineer had pulled the plug. Like a de-powered robot, his rage puffed out of him like air from a balloon to leave him with a sour expression.  
The veteran placed his hands on his back, chest puffing out.  
  
“You all. Dismissed. Medic may go and patch you all up now.” Soldier nodded towards his team. As if given the cue, the german grabbed the rim of his latexgloves and pulled them further down his elbow.  
  
“Mit Vergnügen.”  
  
Everyone groaned in relief from the almost daily routine of getting either yelled at or being praised for their fine job coming to an end. Everybody hated this part after the battle, listening to the endlessly long rampages and speeches the fanatic mercenary had prepared for them. Today however, it came to an end much faster, thanks to whatever their little mechanic had done to stop him. It was no secret to anybody anymore that, whatever reason Soldier had, he always went prominently easier on the engineer, no matter what it was. If it was simply out of courtesy for an american fellow or simply deep respect, for the texans words and fists, neither could tell. But courtesy was not a word in the registers of Soldier, and friends was a state between those two that was practically impossible. More due to Soldier being an loner, a social wreck, and friends, he said, was something he didn't need. Why would he? He had racoons, and a Shovel that keep him company. Although the lesser part wasn't all to talkactive.  
  
The breath the engineer held, left his body with a puff, his posture relaxed. It looked like the rest of his powers would not be wasted on starting to argue with the Soldier. He turned to join the rest of the team to head back into the base, frustrated, sore and hungry like a wolf. “Engineer!” Soldier then called in a sonorous voice. Engineer stopped, and stared over his shoulder. “What'cha want, Soldier? Catchin' up with throwin' some of yar reprimands at me...?”  
“I need to speak to you. I want to see you at my room, 1800 hour, after dinner.”  
  
That was definitely not what the engineer had anticipated for an answer. “May I ask what for?” Engineer was visibly frowning beneath the goggles. And waited for an explanation. But it didn't come. Both just stared at each other for several moments with neither knowing if that was their sign to leave or not. “Sal, is there a particular reason ya wanna---”  
  
“Classified!” Soldier barked. “Dismissed!”  
  
And with that, he turned around, hands holding onto the crop against his lower spine and marching back to the domiciles. Well, well – seems like the scolding would have to wait until a later hour. Such an honor, getting called to the Soldier's room to _privately_ get his ass kicked. Engineer nibbled on his lower lip, while heading back into the base. Once inside in the privacy of his own workshop, he started examining the wounds and bruises he had received from today's battle. With care, he loosened the boots and removed them from his ankles. The tiniest scrape over his aching feet left him hissing in pain. Something was soaked red on his usually white socks.

Nothing on his uniform was left in complete blue anyway, here and there were bloodstains, his or others, or dirt tacked on his overall and hands. Every muscle and every bone was sore from carrying 250ibs of toolboxes over the field, or getting kicked, punched, stabbed, launched in bloody bits in the air, or being shot in the head. Two-fort had never been his favorite place. Everything was too narrowed, the areas, the perimeters, leaving nearly no place for actual combats that didn't comprise of learning to know the RED 'close and personally'. On which he really didn't insist.

Not when RED spy was around.  
  
And it was too bright, and even when it was raining, it was still warm and humid, and there was always a crack in the clouds where sun rays mercilessly burned down on his head and shoulders. Even through his shirt, he had sunburns. Not to mention, all the other bruises he received. Spies had so much more free room, so many more placed to stay tucked and ambushing the poor texan when his nose was stuck in his blueprints.  
He had thought about and tried many times to learn the construction plans he had made to know them by heart, just so his attention spam wouldn't be fixed only on the buildings he created, but that was simply impossible.  
There was always a thing he erased, added, adjusted and changed that there was no time to memorize it.

His hand wandered over his nape down into his shirt and gently scraped the fresh scar of a knifes blade over his left shoulderblade. That damn spy never missed the lungs, he thought, and scratched the crusted layer. Medic had often told him not to touch it while it healed, but it didn't matter – it left scars anyway. Bruises he did know by heart, for he received them nearly daily.  
With a deep sigh, he brushed off his shirt and undershirt, his socks and pants. Ugly, blue and green spots were spread all over his shins and arms, his ribs and back. Shrapnel's of explosions from demomen or soldiers had left carvings in the mechanics body, little burnmarks from Pyros that burned his mechanics.  
  
Today, RED had taken much fun in torturing the BLU Engineer.  
  
No wonder Soldier was angry, but he had simply no right. While he seemed to enjoy himself in adding new heads into his collection, he wouldn't notice the constant assault on the engineer during the day. He built a sentry, it was shot down. He build a dispenser, it was shot down. Teleporter up, the next second down.  
At the end of the day, he was certain he was killed, more often than he actually _had_ killed. Within mere twenty minutes, all three suitcases were gone. And he had to carry the can for it. But it was not his fault, he had done his job like he always did. Soldier still yelled at him, at all of them– he should have helped , instead of going on a solo killing spree.  
  
But Soldier was not a teamplayer. No, he never were.  
  
He always killed on his own, died on his own, walked and traveled on his own. He was much like sniper, he didn't call for help, or didn't call a medic when he knew the damage was too much to safe. Like an old cat, feeling the end was dawning, he dragged himself into the next corner and waited for the cold embrace of death.  
  
Engineer wondered if he was lonely.  
  
Maybe he was, and was simply good at hiding it. There was never a time where Soldier seemed unhappy in solitude. Never had he felt the need to join poker-evenings with Sniper, Demo and Scout, never joined him, Pyro and Heavy at the campfire. Now that Engineer was recalling, there had never been a social event he had ever seen the soldier taking part of. Not even in battle did Soldier like to team up with anybody. He wasn't like Pyro, helping the engineer to keep nasty spies off of his back. He wasn't like Medic, standing at the Heavy's side to fight. That was still a peculiar behavior who always swore on team spirit in his unit. Soldier never had a friend, it seemed.  
  
Besides the enemy Demoman. For how many times had Engineer tried to talk some sense into him, saying that the friendship he as with Demo is dangerous and foolish, not to mention discarding his idea of loyality to the team. Why wouldn't he befriend their own teams demo? Or anybody else? Hell, he even suggested becoming friends with engineer himself. But to no avail. He was stubborn, but so was Engineer And while Engineer got dressed properly, readying himself for dinner, he wondered what occasion the Soldier had found to call him to his room. It wasn't often that the Soldier wanted to talk to any of his teammates in private. Not even for brawls. Engineer didn't know if he should feel honored, he still couldn't think of a reason he would call him out of anybody to his domicile.

Engineer entered the messhall and seated himself with a bowl of boring tasting stew next to Pyro and Scout. “Mind if ah sit here?” he asked, and Pyro quickly scooted over to make place for his friend.  
  
“...So then, I says to the guy, _‘brotha, I hurt people,’_ and then the chump turns and runs! Grabbed my gun, _BOOM,_ head gone, clumps'a hair flyin' everywhere; most fuckin' hilarious thing i've ever seen.”  
Scout munched on his bread while telling the story he told Sniper everytime they sat together, and then laughed so hard, chunks of food launched out of his mouth and everywhere on the table. Sniper shoved his bowl demonstratively away from the obnoxious brat with nothing but a deep grumble.  
  
“I'm tellin' ya, there's nuthin I've seen before that's funnier.” The boy had now turned to the texan. “What'cha lookin' at, hardhat?”  
“Boy, would'cha lookit that.” he pointed at the welt on the scouts temple.  
“Looks like that soldier-boy beat'cha good.” - “It's nuthin', really. Doesnt even hurt--- _OW!!_ ” the boy flinched as Pyro poked against the red, hot bruise on the scout's face. “Dude, don't jus' touch it!”  
  
“Ya shoulda oughta tell the medic, son.” Engineer traced the welt with his thumb. “Ey, don't get all faggy on me!” Scout shoved the man's hand away angrily.  
“This ain't no big deal, give it a day or two and you ain't seein' any of it. Hopes though this ain't leavin' a scar. Look at that, Sniper, ya think this gon' leave a scar?”  
Sniper didn't even spare a glance at the boy, and rather continued to sup his meal while reading the newspaper.  
“Ya scared the doc's gonna find out about'cha lil' backside problem, huh?” Engineer smirked amused. Scout cringed so hard, the table clattered as his knees hit against it. “Yo, old fart, how abouts ya yell it a lil' louder, seems like the backrow didn't hear ya!” Scout hissed into Engineer's direction. Pyro cocked his head in interest. “Mhmph?”  
  
Scout didn't like Engineer, and Engineer didn't like him either. Nevertheless, somehow it seemed that the mechanic was the only one patient enough to more or less enjoy the company of the bostonian around him, which involved into both, mostly scout, asking for favors which spy never should find out about. He was like, a substitute confidant for the kid, and he wouldn't say he didn't enjoy helping the kid along. Keeping a secret though was not his good suit, and helping for such matters was definitely not his job.  
  
“Look boy, if ya consider getting' checked by the medic, I ain't gonna spill Spy that ya havin' some problems sittin' down correctly.“ To empathize his words, he looked down at the funny way Scout's backside nearly didn't touch the bench. “Ya wouldn't dare--” Scout hissed. “Wouldn't I? Well, ah'm sure Spy would love to know about that little hemorrhoids problem ya been tellin' me about ---”  
“ _JEEZ_ , alright _MOM_!” Scout rolled his eyes over dramatically. “Is not my fault that freakin' psycho hit me with that thing! Man, who the hell does he think he is, that freakin', old bastard---”  
  
“That is still _SIR_  'freaking old bastard' to YOU!”  
  
The booming voice of the Soldier suddenly rumbled behind the boy. Scout turned his head over his shoulder, before a large hand grabbed him and pushed his face into his bowl of stew.  
Clangorous guffaw filled the hall at the sight of the Soldier sinking the boy's face into his meal and only releasing after Engie cast an angry glance at the man. Scout gasped, while broth dripped down his chin and onto his shirt.  
”What tha hell?!” Scout blubbered enraged into Soldier's direction, who demonstratively ignored his presence.  
  
Pyro gingerly fetched a towel and rubbed off the remains from Scouts face and shirt, while the young man squirmed and griped that he shouldn't treat him like a goddamn baby. “That friggin', old, goddamn, stupid, birdbrained---”  
“Say, didn't he meant te talk to ye later about something?” Sniper finally lifted his gaze off of his newspaper to look at the Engineer with his eyebrows arched in question. He didn't even seem to acknowledge the misery of his teammate across the other side of the table. “He sure was eager ta speak me. I'mma makin' sure he ain't be bullyin' ya again, kid.” Engineer patted Scout's shoulder. “He doesn't _bully_ me, jeez, only wimps get bullied!”  
“Yer are a wimp then, olroight.” Sniper commented dryly. “Oh yeah, ya better say that to mah face, tough guy!” Scout hollered over the table.  
  
“Nah, sorry mate. I would, but it's covered in vegetables.”  
  
Engineer didn't follow the fight between the two, his gaze had wandered off, back to the man at the end of the table, sitting far isolated from the group and munching on his single dry loaf of bread. He seemed distracted, sunken in thoughts. His broad jar squared from time to time, and even with his face covered under the helmet, he seemed to show a frown.  
Engineer continued to occasionally raise his head from his meal, watching the clock or trying to calm Scout's endless ranting, until during another dispute bubbling up between the Aussie and the Bostonian, Engineer caught Soldier raising from his chair and heading out of the mess hall, back to his domiciles.  
  
And after dinner was done, he followed. Engineer poked his head out, seeing if anyone was roaming the hallways who might start prodding him for questions. After making sure he was in the clear, he slowly stepped out into the hallway and walked towards Soldier's quarters. Only the loud clops of his boots were heard in the corridor, as if to remind him of his own hesitance. The corridors were long, and cold and empty, besides the many doors it bore. Not each of the rooms behind had Engineer ever seen and he didn't want to either, now that he thought about it. Here he was – standing at the same room that belonged to someone who, by society's standards, might as well be thrown in an insane asylum for being such a danger to others. With hesitation, he knocked.  
  
“HALT!” boomed the voice from inside. “NAME AND MATTERS?”  
“Dagnabbit, Sal!” Engie had dropped his hardhat, so much did the sudden change in volume in his ears startle him. “I can hear ya jus' fine, EVERYONE can hear ya jus fine. No need ta yell!”  
  
That was enough as an answer for Soldier to open the door. The first thing the engineer was greeted with was a tight fitting white shirt stretched over a broad chest and as Engineer slowly tilted his head, he saw Soldier's familiar scowl on his face.  
“You are late, private!” he growled. “Nope.” Engie shook his head. “Ah'm quite punctual, boy. Wouldn'cha look at the time, it's 6 pm, a'right---”  
“IF I SAY YOU'RE LATE, THEN YOU GODDAMN ARE LATE!” Soldier gripped the Engineer by his collar and pulled him inside his room, closing the door harshly behind them and, to Engineer's dread, locked the door behind him.  
  
“Well, what a warm welcome...” Engie muttered and situated his overall. Soldier's room was, to his surprise, more comfortable than his own. Where there would be large crates of scrap metal, scrambled paperwork and blueprints scattered, there were neatly folded towels, socks, and t-shirts, stacked and ready for use; the desk that Engineer was used to being cluttered with tools and documents, Soldier had organized into a tidy workspace, complete with lined paper, pencils, and pens (so tidy, in fact, that it looked like it had never been used, which was highly reasonable ), the american flag hanging on the wall as the only decoration for this cold and rather empty room. It resembled more of a prison cell now that Engineer thought about it.  
  
Engineer still clutched the hardhat in his hands as he turned around to watch the man moving past him towards the desk. “So, ah...how ya doin', Sal?” the texan asked. He knew better to start the conversation as casual and friendly as possible, being in Soldier's good books spared him god knows what kind of torture. “Ya recoverin' fine? Ah saw ya fightin' with that demoman today, uh – he struck ya nicely.” Engie's eyes moved down to the side of Soldier's body, where the splintered bottle had grazed him during their combat. Soldier replied with nothing more than an absent-minded grunt.  
  
There was no trace of any blood or injuries on the clean, white shirt the man wore, otherwise, there was no sign he had attended the medic either. Smalltalk, it seemed was not on the military man's mind. So the tinkerer supposed to go down to business right away. “So, ah - is there a certain reason ya been callin' me here, Solly?”  
Engineer asked feebly. Something in the way the man moved was intimidating. Everything about him was, in fact intimidating. Engie had always expected to know that man better than anybody else, but that theory seemed to disprove.  
  
“Look, ah, if ya still mad at our team losin' t'day, ya ain't gonna have ta---”  
  
“You are scum! You are a _disgrace_ to the hardhat!”  
  
“...Come again?” Engineer raised the eyebrows under the goggles.  
  
“You heard me quite alright, civilian!” Soldier barked, and turned around, a familiar tool in his hand. “Engie, I have watched you over the few last days, and it is exactly what I feared – no. Even worse!”  
“Ah'm really not catchin' up with ya, Sal.” Engineer replied flatly. A mistake. For the instant slap of the crop across his arm made Engineer jerk in pain.  
“ _Ow!_ What in tarna---”  
“I DO NOT ALLOW ANY FORM OF ADRESSING ME OTHER THAN 'SIR', IS THAT CLEAR?”  
Engineer's jaw nearly dropped. Another hard swing of the crop against his other arm. “IS THAT CLEAR, I ASKED.”  
“Sa-, ah... Y-yes sir.” Engineer muttered, still befuddled by the sudden assault. That seemed to please the Soldier.  
  
He poked the Engineer's chest with the crop. “Pants down.” he then ordered.  
“Do what now?”  
“I said pants down!!”  
  
Engineer cringed. What in sam's hill was going on here? The rather confused gaze on the mechanics face made Soldier roll his eyes under the helmet. “If you think I am going to unbutton your overall myself, you are wrong! I am neither your servant, nor am I a goddamn fruitcake! I will not put a finger on an other man if I'm not intending to rip off their heads, so do what I say! ”  
Now that was an even bigger surprise to hear. Inwardly, Engineer had already prepared for the worst.  
  
“I---uh...”  
_“STAND AND DELIVER, MAGGOT!”_  
  
“A'right, a'right! Ah, hell...” Engie wheezed, but obeyed. He grunted, and unbuttoned the straps of his overalls, letting the front bib hang flaccid. This was all really weird. Perhaps this should have been a sign to run, but Engineer missed his chance. Now all he could do was watch as Soldier eyed him skeptically, while circling him, the crop gently bobbing up and down in his wrist.  
  
“Look at you, maggot. Even your goddamn machines need a diet! You are _weak! Lazy! Fat!_ ” the soldier emphasized the word 'fat' with a swift and decisive swing of his crop, hitting the engineer's very sensitive side. Engineer jerked with a surprised yelp.”I do not allow such lack of strength in my goddamn team!”  
  
Now that was plain mean. Yes, he hadn't had the shape of Soldier, but the difference between him and himself was, that Soldier was carrying a rocketlauncher around most of the day, and took his over-the-top training regimen very serious. Engineer however was a man that solved problems. Practical problems. And losing weight was none of these.  
  
He growled, knitting his eyebrows and opened his mouth to speak: “Son, ya better be taking that back or ah'm promisin' ya, ah'm gonna lay ya out--!”  
  
To no avail. Soldier grabbed him by his nape then and pushed him with such strength to the floor, hadn't he reacted in time, his face would me pressed into the ground now. “On your knees, maggot, and give me 20! No, 40! GO, GO, GO!”  
And Engineer had no other choice but to follow his orders. He was still not fully finding any sense in the man's actions, but if the only reason he called him to his room in privacy for push-ups and hits, then he might as well just unlock the door himself and leave. “Come on, move your sorry ass!” Soldier bellowed, threatening to whip him once more. Engie instantly pushed his heavy body off the floor with his hands propping against the ground beneath, lowered himself again just barely before his nose tip touched the ground, and pushed himself up again.  
  
“Faster, FASTER!” Soldier shouted. Engineer tried to speed up without running out of breath. Once he found a steady but involuntary rhythm, puffing out a hot breath each time he lowered himself again, he absolved his push-ups. Soldier watched the man like a hawk, swirling the crop in his hand. “I have taken it my duty to bring you into shape, Engie. For the next few weeks you'll follow my leads. Things like lollipops and chocolate-bars will not exist in this plan, and this here is only a sample. You will be training hard! Everyday!”  
  
“W-What?” Engineer wheezed.  
“I DID NOT ASK YOU A QUESTION!” Soldier whipped Engineer on his nape, and the tinkerer cried in pain. “Come on, come on, One-two, one-two! Faster Maggot!”  
“Dagnabbit Soldier, I---”  
“Not enough pushing! C'mon professor! I wanna see you kiss the floor! Kiss the floor, dammit!”  
Engineer growled angrily, refusing to even consider to –-  
“LIPS ON THE FLOOR, SCUM!”  
  
Never had Engineer quicker pressed his lips on anything than now, with each lower, his mouth made contact with the ground and each time he could swear something was left stuck on the soft flesh and he just wanted to brush it off so badly.  
At the count of 30 push ups, his powers left his body so fiercely, he groaned and collapsed. His chest heaved and fell rapidly and deeply, his already aching body was feeling like an elephant stood on his spine.  
His lungs burned like fire and each breath he drew was searing in his throat.  
  
Soldier however, was not satisfied. Not satisfied at all.  
  
“Just look at you, disgraceful blob of a man!” To Engineer's relief, Soldier placed the whip back on the table. “You call yourself a mercenary? You call yourself a man of my team? Hah! I have seen people in goddamn coffins fitter than you!”  
  
Engineer didn't reply, rasping to catch his breath and endure the blooming pain of the welts all over his body with occasional groans and whines muffled by the floor. “Show some goddamn backbone, I barely touched you!” Soldier growled. But it seemed Engineer's slightly exaggerated writhing in pain finally reached Soldier's soft spot once more. He gave not more than a sigh, and marched past his own declared student.  
  
Paper and pen were fetched. Soldier scribbled, and Engineer carefully pushed his body off the floor.  
A mingle of anger, frustration, and embarrassment seeped into his head. But before he could start ranting into Soldiers face about that truly atrocious opinion the older man had about him and his work, and the way he treated him, Soldier turned and held out the note he had written down.  
  
“This is your training's schedule! I want to see you at attention, at 0500 hour in the morning, at this very doorstep.”  
“Five in the morning?” Engineer rasped appalled. “Soldier, how the hell ya thinkin' ah'm gonna--”  
“NO EXCUSES, HARDHAT!” Soldier hollered, and then shoved the engineer to the door. “Dismissed.”  
“Solly, listen to me---!”  
  
“I said, _Dismissed!_ ” The door closed with a harsh swing.  
  
Dumbfounded, wobbly on his knees, and with nothing but burning weals all over his body and a piece of paper, Engineer digested the entire scenario he had just witnessed in silence staring at the door.  
It all happened so fast and in such confusing turns and twists, it was nearly too much for the texan. The reminder of events were in his hand, and on his skin, which started to burn badly.  
Engineer quickly scooted away from Soldier's door, scared another session of whipping would wait for him if he dwelt too long. His hand rubbed over the hot wheal on his neck and hissed silently.  
  
For gods sake, he was fine with being called fat. He was fine with being ordered about, as long as it was weighted on mutuality, but Soldier daring to call him “lazy”, “weak”, or even hurting him, that was going too far.  
  
_Alright then, soldier-boy,_ Engineer thought. _You wanna play with the bull? Then you better had watchin' them horns! There was no way you can take a Conagher by the horns and joggle on them without them jamming up on you!_  
  
He would show him what a weakling this Engineer was, right next morning – but first, he should visit the doctor. Those welts were seriously starting to hurt.


	2. Butchering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was taking sooo long, funny things happened with my computer files and i had to dig through masses of datas to get the fanfiction back - and re-write the entire thing again. But here is the next chapter, oyy.

“RISE AND SHINE, MAGGOT!” was the first thing the Engineer heard in the morning. “IT'S APPOXIMATELY 0500 HOURS IN THE MORNING AND TIME FOR YOUR SORRY ASS TO GET IN SHAPE!“  
Never had Engineer been woken up in a worse way. Soldier had slammed his door close after his brief, extremely loud speech, and left the poor mechanic shivering in the aftershock of that sudden intruding of his domicile, and so tired it was hard for him to keep himself awake as he scrambled out of the sheets. His eyes fell on the clock. 5 am in the morning. Actually, a minute or two later. 

He could have had at least two more hours of sleep if it was a normal work day, and the double amount of time if it was a ceasefire day. But today, his routine would have some drastic changes. The tinkerer groaned, and dragged himself to his wardrobe, changed his clothes into a single white shirt, his goggles and his overall and lazily slipped into his shoes before meeting the soldier in as much clothing as himself, the and cracking his knuckles and neck.  
  
“There you are, hardhat. Ready to drop that cheesecake with cream on top and start your  physical remediation?”  
It probably wouldn't make any difference if he would reply with yes or no, so he just shrugged his shoulders. “Better get started before we gotta head off ta work, huh?”  
“Correct! That's the spirit!” Soldier smirked and patted the engineer roughly on his shoulder.  
  
The sky was still covered in stars, it was pitch black and damn cold. Soldier lead the tinkerer out of the base to a secret trainingsground behind the building. Would Engineer have known how cold it was at this time in the morning, even in the desert, he would have grabbed a bunch of warmer clothes. Trembling in every inch of his body, he held his torso in an attempt to shield himself from the cold. Soldier, wearing even thinner clothes, didn't seem to mind the temperatures.  
  
“Alright, greasemonkey. Your times of relaxing afternoons with beer and cream gravy are hereby  _terminated!_ Every soldier of mine will learn to follow orders, to show efficiency on the battlefield, and especially to muster 40 goddamn push-ups in less than fifteen seconds – hell, are you even listening?”  
Engineer rubbed over his arms. “H-Hearin' ya loud and clear.” He pressed between clattering teeth. “For christs sake, Hardhat, it's just a little windy, is all! If you would have fought in the neverending ice and snow of Poland 1945 you would be goddamn grateful you'd still be able to move your toes and fingers!”  
That's right, Soldier had been fighting in Poland before joining the team, Engineer remembered.

“Honey, where ah'm from, ya gonna _wish_ ya would freeze for once!” Engineer pressed out. By the way Soldier jerked his had back slightly, his helmet swaying over his face, he could imagine that gainsay from the other was not expected.  
“Well, seems like your wish was granted then!” Soldier barked, turned and grabbed the Engineer by his shoulder to shove him along. “We gonna do some warm-up. Follow me, hardhat!”  
“No forty push-ups? No crop swingin'?” Engineer sneered. “How generous of ya, hoss.”  
“From what I saw yesterday, my level of training is too violent for you, cupcake! So lets get you some generous warm-up!”  
  
That generous warm-up was a 200 meter sprint. Engineer stared at the stomped in straight path that stretched over a terribly long line. “Ya can't be serious, Soldier.”  
“I am always serious, grease monkey!” Soldier lowered his stance, feet angled on the floor, hands pressed into the dirt, shoulders squared. “Get down.” he rumbled. Engineer didn't budge. He still tried to make out the distance from here to the other side, which was nearly impossible in the darkness. He sun did not yet show itself behind the mountains.  
  
“What's the matter, hippy? Too violent for you was well?”  
  
“Heck no!” Engineer hissed, and in wantonness, he leaned down as well, thighs quivering in anticipation. He was not here to be called names all day or being labeled as weak by that half-cooked son'uva'bitch! He'll gonna lay him out this time!  
“Ready! Set...” Engineer didn't even hear the “go”, as he already saw the Soldier starting to run. He tore through the dirt and sprinted, with Engineer barely catching up behind. You gotta hand it to him – he was fast, if he wanted to. Usually on the battlefield, he might be one of the slowest. But carrying a half-a-ton heavy weaponry was certainly a restraint. His footfall shook the earth.  
  
Engineer panted, but soon caught up. In fact, he noticed the military man was falling back. Engineer displays a smirk of triumph, seeing the end of the line coming closer and closer. For a moment, Engineer's glee over beating the Soldier in at least speed, he pondered if there was a reason the man was slowing down. Was this a tactic? Slowing down and then catching up rapidly? Engineer comes realize he was running out of breath very quickly all of the sudden. The line seemed so distant, even though it seemed so close just mere seconds ago. He lost control over his breathing, the power in his legs left him. Just a few meters before the finish line, he has to stop.  
  
His sight is blurry and his lungs are burning, whistling, his thighs and calves burning like fire. He is panting, leaning over his knees, sweat dripping down his brow, while he hears Soldier's thunderous steps passing him and reaching the end. He doesn't see as the military man closes up on him and stands in front of him, hands on his hips, his chest heaving and falling just barely while he waits for the tinkerer to catch his breath. “Got hair in your eyes?” Soldier rumbled. “Well, son...ah guess ah....underestimated ya there.”  
“Speed is not the key, hardhat! It's stamina!” He grabs one of the towels from the bench he had rested them on and throws it into his direction. “Clean yourself up, Tex!”  
Engineer reaches for the rag and mobs it over his forehead and face. 

“Now that we have warmed you properly up, its time for stamina training! You flab need to gain muscles! Endurance!!”  
Engineer had to prop himself up on his knees and catch his breath.  
“You will NOT bend over in a stomach-emptying position unless I say so, do you hear me?! We are going to burn that laziness off you, even if the russians will invade this here territory!! But they won't, cuz YOU WILL FINISH THIS TRAINING FIRST!”  
  
Soldier dragged the wheezing Engineer across the training ground to the pull-up bar. He jumped up and took a vice grip on the metallic pole, hovering there for a few seconds, the power in his arms alone holding his muscle-heavy body in the air. He lowered himself, just barely before his knees would touch the ground, pulling himself up again until the pole pressed into his chest.  
“The key to...fitness is 'train until your bones break and knuckle bleed!'.” Soldier huffed between each pull up. Engineer stared across the bar towards his involuntary fitness instructor.  
  
“Sun Tzu said that! And I'd say he..he knows a little more about training than _YOU_ do pal!!” Soldier pointed his finger at Engie, and almost slipped in the process." Because he _INVENTED_ IT!!"   
Engineer didn't buy it though. He was schooled enough to know that Sun Tzu had never said any of this, and that Soldier was just making up stuff in order to motivate him to...'burn that laziness off him'.  
  
Soldier kept pulling himself up and down. “What are you waiting for, rodeo-clown?! Get to it then!”  
  
But Engineer refused. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, demonstratively staying where he was. “I'm not going to ask twice, sally!”  
But Engineer didn't budge. This was it. He would take critique well, and negativity wasn't something he wouldn't confront on a daily base. But he wouldn't let this man bully him into following his every will. Soldier stopped as well now. The helmet on his head still swayed, yet his eyes stayed hidden. Metal stared back at toned glasses.  
  
“Are you disregarding my orders, private?”  
“Ah dunno; am I?” Engineer replied coldly.  
Soldier let go of the bar and landed on his feet. He inched closer. “You do not ask the questions here, maggot, I AM the only one permitted!”  
  
“Is that so?”  
  
“Stop asking questions, beef jerky, and follow my lead!!”  
  
“I'd rather not.” Engineer glowered back. “If'n ya keep handlin' me like ah'm a mental handicapped fatass, Ah'mma ain't doin' a thing.”  
  
“You WILL grab this pole now and you WILL exercise, that is an order!!”  
  
“Forget it then.” Engineer pushed past the wall that was Soldiers' torso.  
  
“Where do you think you're going?”  
“Back ta sleep. Ah ain't gonna put up with this horseshit this early. Can't believe ah actually agreed ta this here. Oh, yeah thats right – ah didn't have a choice ta begin with!”  
There was a vein that popped up at the side of the Soldiers neck. “YOU DISGRACEFUL, SPINELESS WORM! YOU WILL NOT TURN YOUR BACK ON ME AND WALK AWAY FROM YOUR SEARGANT, DO YOU HEAR ME?!”  
“Ya ain't mah Seargant, Soll!”  
“YOU WILL _REGRET_ \---”  
  
Suddenly, there was a loud, shrill tone that burst through the megaphones around the outside and inside of the base, shaking the mercenaries out of their sleeps, and shooing birds up into the air with loud flutters.  
_“ALERT! MISSION AT FREIGHT BEGINS IN TWENTY MINUTES!”_

 

  
Freight used to be a docking station for cargo trains that arrived from the nearby harbor. The two competing companies across each other were called Redstone cargo and B.L.Us Freight and shipping, build and financized by Redmond and Bluetarch Mann. The only difference between both enterpises was, that they had different names, and different locations. Besides that, both shipped and deported the same ware and even went the same route. Back then, many civilians and workers were wondering why they simply wouldn't team up, instead of building on each others lands. Yet its a long line of generations that knows why such things weren't even imaginable between the twins, and thus they kept fighting, yelling, buying, building.  
  
At least until they gave up on the properties and the buildings became abandoned. And yet the two brothers fought over who was the actual proprietor of the facility; like with so many other properties their father had owned. Just recently the administrator re-opened the docking station as a battleground for RED and BLU as a control-point map, and claim the territory for their own. Engineer already had seen the map. The administrator had given him instructions over how the battlefield would look like, work, and where the loyal little Engineer would place the controlpoints. Yes, he knew; he, and the Engineer from the other team, knew more than the rest. Worked ahead. They fueled this entire endless war, and gave it paths and ways to manifest. But that was his job, and after all – killing some son'a'bitches was a way better pastime than working in some old rotten barn and pulling out body parts of dead game rolled over by combines.

Engineer swirled his wrench in his hand. He always did before the fight; to relax, and reflect on where he could put his teleporter, his sentry and dispenser. He took a break from the rest of the team that thoroughly chose which weaponry they will choose for todays battle. Scout just recently received a new secondary weapon, a cleaver which Saxton Hale had purchased from a trip to Tokyo. He said these were as good as new, yet the bits of raw fish and rice grains told him that there cleaver was definitely used for other purposes before. So, the boy kept throwing the thing around like it was a dart arrow, and from time to tme the cleaver flew into someones arm, or even chopped off Scouts own fingers.  
  
Medic grabbed his medigun, and removed the overheal container. He always kept them in jars, that had a slight red glow in the darkness. Soldier asked Medic if it was honey, Medic shook his head. Soldier said this has to be honey, it looked exactly like--  
“Soldier, you vill not eat zhe medi-fluids! Zhey aren't for you!” On cue, Heavy moved past the doctor and the Soldier, and nearly knocked both over. Medic prepared the kritzkrieg fluids for the medigun, and held the trigger open for the fumes to consume Heavy's massive body. He gave each one a small overheal for the start, which Engineer could only thank the doc for. He was usually one of the fewer health endowed people, at least he was told so.

“ _Mission begins in sixty seconds_...” The dark smoke-heavy voice of the Administrator murmured through the intercom. Outside the battlefield, there were sounds. Voices that angrily echoed over the batttlefield.  
“Seems like the Red blokes are already here...” Sniper rumbled and leaned against the metallic slide door. “Cannot loose dis time.” Heavy mumbled. He was right. They already had lost enough times this week, one more loss, and they promised paycheck would go to RED.  
  
They were tired, and stressed, and mostly frustrated, Engineer could see it in their faces, and hear it in their voices.  
  
Soldier pressed himself in front of the group.  
“Men, this is our final chance for win, and our dinner privileges for the rest of the week! I REFUSE to leave my honor and dignity to those red _maggots,_ I will TAKE my honor and dignity to my grave, and so should all of you sorry sacks of crap!! We are mercenaries! We are a team! And now we are going to give those cheesecrackers some hell the will never EVER forge--”  
  
During his speech, Soldier hadn't acknowledged that the timer was running down, and once it hit zero, the door behind him opened with a loud creak, and the team pushed past him, out of the respawn, and to the platforms, jeering their battlecries, and heaving their weapons into the air. Soldier was left alone, his finger still raised, dumbfounded and frozen to the spot, with Engineer calmly collecting his things.  
  
“Ah shucks.” He grabbed his ungainly toolbox and heaved it up to his shoulder. “Well, don't take it personal, boy.They gonna listen next time, hm?”  
Engineer gave the Soldier a soft pat on his arm. The Soldier's gaze was still obscured under that heavy lip of his helmet, it was always hard to read this mans emotions. For a second it seemed the touch calmed the man down from his over-the-top-horse, but then Soldier huffed, and pushed Engies hand away.  
“Don't touch me.” He snared, picked up his own rocketlauncher, and blasted off, into the distance. Engineer just rolled his eyes with a sign, and continued setting up his teleporter.  
  
The battle was already heated and in full bloom. Engineer had wasted enough time comforting the stoic persona to miss setting up a sentry. However he did witness the alert that RED had inched close to the unoccupied control-point in the center. Freight was definitely not one of his favorite battlegrounds. It was messy, all over the place, there were secret passages and confusing shortcuts that even he couldn't couldn't keep up with. And he lost count of the many times he had been hit, smashed, hauled away and rolled over by passing trains that still run through the abandoned companys. His short legs quickly moved over metallic bridges, over small water canals and towards his team.  
  
He came to a wheezing stop, his unbuild Sentry in his arms, and observed the surroundings from the distance. BLU may have kept the center point uncontested, yet half of them were scattered, dead, or just in the process of dying. RED has retreated for now, yet at the other end of the two warehouses, there was an impressive sentry nest. RED Engineer had done some excellent job keeping both dispenser and sentry up in an angle that nobody could reach without getting killed along the way. He would come over and congratulate; yet he supposed it might be better to actually stay here, and get started.  
  
He quickly moved to the front line, yet kept himself hidden behind a wall, pressed himself against it not to be spotted by an enemy. Above him, at a smaller platform, stood sniper. There was a loud and shrill 'Boom' sound, and a following scream, somewhere at the other side of the front line.  
  
“Bighead wanka!” The australian barked.  
“Slim, how's the major situation?” Engie asked, one hand on his helmet as smithereens and shrapnel flew over the wall. “Sentry ahead.” He murmured, aimed, shot, but missed. He gave an almost canine appearing snarl as he reloaded. “Right, what else?”  
“Their Heavy n' Medic pissed off somewhere. They're prolly choargin' up.”  
“Ah, hell!” Engie fetched his wrench. If RED would charge up now, they would never get the central controlpoint. According to the strained face the Medic had on his already constantly alert face told him they wouldn't charge up in nearest future either. Time to get to it then!  
  
“Sentry going up...” He mumbled, and dropped the toolbox. He would have stayed there and keep speeding the process up, yet the next moment he could react, a sudden explosion eruptes just close to the protective wall he had pressed himself against. A loud scream, probably Snipers, echoed over his head. He ducked in reflex. Blood splattered next to his feet, bits of intestines, and a hand flew against the walls.  
  
“Daggnabbit...” Engineer growled, and quickly kept moving, throwing the other end of the teleporter somewhere into a secured corner. Next thing he saw were small red orbs that hovered over the walls and into his direction, blinking alarmingly. Engineer gasped as he quickly jumped away, just barely escaping the following detonation. He took a look behind him. The teleporter was in shards. “Teleporter down!” he cried. Its like each of his creations were from his own flesh and blood, his children which he cared for – and seeing one of them hurt or destroyed started to fuel his anger. Baring his teeth, he snatched his wrench, loaded his shotgun.  
  
“C'mere, eyehole!!” He yelled. Thats when the scotsman jumped behind the wall, stickybombs launched into his direction and exploded just a few inches away from his shielded head. Engineer yelped as he collapsed to the floor.  
"Doon't fret, boyo! I'll be gentle!" the Red demo guffawed and launched another grenade.  
  
“Hutta hutta hmph!!”  
  
It was like a cue from heaven as Pyro appeared around the corner, flamethrower already fetched.  
“Pyro!” Egineer wheezed. “Pyro there's a demo creepin' around here!”  
The firebug tilted his head, and then quickly nodded as he understood. He always seemed rather excited to hear enemies were in the close range. It meant more cotton candy clouds and bubbles, and seeing the colorful items bursting out of RED's open torsos was just...  
_Fascinating!  
  
_ Pyro snickered in a hushed voice, as he charged off, and towards the enemy demo. Engie himself started shooting passing RED's that somehow found their way around the frontline, and would try attacking from behind, just like that sneaky RED scout. A few shots of Engies sentry and he was down with a gurgled cry.  
“Now how did that plan turn out for ya, dummy?” Engineer grinned, running his hand over his chin were the speedster's blood had splattered on.  
Suddenly however, there was a big commotion behind the corner. Engineer was instantly alert.  
To his right, he saw Pyro. Escaping. He screamed, as grenades were launched into his direction, Demo running after the poor firebug with a shit-eating grin on his face. To his left he heard a loud scream in panic.  
  
Medic stormed away from the frontline, panic on his face. Medic was abandoning Heavy?! What in heavens name was happening out there? Medic ran, but wouldn't come far. As suddenly a rain of syringes pelted down onto the German.  
They sank through his coat into his skin, into his back and his neck, his legs and arms, and at some point, the doctor seemed to completely freeze up and scatter to the floor.  
A few of his limbs still twitched as the anesthetics started overdosing his body into heartfailure.  
  
“Incoming!!” Someone yelled. Engineer pushed past the wall, and stared outside towards the center point. Sniper had been right. The RED's Heavy-Medic team had arrived. Overcharged, and invincible. The RED Heavy was bathed in glowing red, his skin seemed literally to be shining, eyes glowing dangerously, his jaw in a wide angry yell, and bullets pierced through everyone that couldn't hide in time. They inched closer to the controlpoint...  
  
“Dammit, dammit, dammit!!” Engineer drew his pistol in a desperate attempt to keep them from capping, he shot a whole magazine into the bulletproof skin of the russian. Yet the bullets clanked against the iron hard skin and uselessly tumbled to the floor. Those pair of yellow glistening eyes forcused on him now. The tinkerer freezes up in shock. Bullets zinged into his direction, one piercing through his shoulder. He gasped in pain, and dropped the pistol.  
  
He was shaken awake by the next bullet that nearly went through his skull, but only tore open the skin at his cheekbone. He retreated, pressing against the wall again. Their Heavy, now alone, couldn't run fast enough either. His entire back was turned into gory swiss cheese, he collapsed with a shiver quacking beeath Engineers feet.  
Engineer breathed hard. Keep your calm boy. The charge cant take much longer! It's oughta end in a few seconds! Right...?  
But these seconds felt like hours, bullets shooting, screams of dying, blood, and the wall he was pressed against might as well collapse any second if that Heavy kept shooting against it.  
  
“H-He...” Engineers voice cracked. “H-Help!!” He called. “Help me!!”  
  
He knew his cry for help wouldn't reach anybody. His team was dead. Spy was missing for the entire match, didnt sap, didn't kill or backstab anybody.  
In that moment, a rocket flew into his direction. The impact instantly destroyed his sentry, and hauled him a few meters away, he landed hard on the floor and groaned in pain over a broken rib.  
“There you are, professor!” The raucous voice of RED Soldier sounded right behind him. Engineer forced himself up to roll onto his back. The Soldier was closing in, drawing his shotgun from his holster, cocking it back. That's it. No way he could get out of this situation alive. So all he did was close his eyes behind toned glasses and await to be embraced by respawn.  
  
“This is my world! _YOU_ are not welcomed in _MY WORLD_!!” the man yelled. But then suddenly, there was a zing through the air, followed by a dull thud, a skull cracking under a hard surface. The Red Soldier gives a cry in agony, and instantly collapsed, being replaced with...Blu Soldier. The man was standing right above the little Engineer with his shovel in his hand. Blood and bits of smashed brain and hair was sticking to the blade. Steelblue eyes glowing beneath the helmet with mettle.  
  
“WHAT IN HEAVENS NAME DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!” The man above him yells. Engineer was instantly torn from his shock. He blinks and opened his jaw, yet could barely speak. A hand grabbed his collar and pulled him back up on his feet. “Stop hiding behind your toys and FIGHT LIKE A MAN!!”  
  
The vice grip around his collar loosens, as Soldier turns around. “The worm is turning!”  
He pointed his rocketlauncher at his feet and blasted off back into the skies above, landing onto the next unaware victim he would smash with his shovel. Engineer stood a few more moments there, recovering from the fact he nearly died there. And as fast a it came, it ended, Engineer found himself back in the here and now. His PDA had been beeping and blinking for a while now, mot probably also the reason Soldier had been shaking the Engineer back into consciousness. F lying sparks indicated that a spy had slapped a sapping device on the sentry that he had put up there.  
  
"Spy sappin' mah sentry!!" announcing this fact was more for alerting any teammates in earshot of his own presence more so than reporting the problem to them.   
The 'get-your-head-out-of-your-toolbox-and-look-behind-you' speech he got from the soldier flashed through the engineer's mind upon this realization. He dropped his gear, and the RED Spy's knife blade only dug a long trench into his arm instead of plunging into his back as he spun around. Ignoring the injury, the engineer yanked his wrench out from his belt and started swinging it wildly.  
  
Where the hell did that Slug sucker go?! One second ago he had been here, the other he had vanished again. Bad enough their team was dying to the Heavy-Medic combo, he was the last man standing that at least showed some defense. He quickly moved back to his sentry, taking a swift swing and yanking off the sticky sapper from his sentry with a loud 'Clank'.  
Suddenly footsteps inching closer, Engineer saw the respawned rest of his team jumping out of opened garage doors, and into battle.  
  
“H-Hold up there!” Engie wheezed. “Heavy-Medic combo ahead!”  
But none seemed to listen to him, especially not the doggone mad Sniper that rushed past him and back towards the platform he had stood before. “Ah'm gonna blow the inside of their heads...” He growled, instantly took aim. There was a loud bang. Coming from the rifle in Snipers hands, seconds after the sound as if a flash had struck into the location. The enemy medic cried out as blood gushed out of his skull. Instantly the last bits of the RED Medics ubercharge left the Heavys body, and he was left unprotected.  
  
“Doktor!” He cried out once realizing what has happened to his companion. And once he realized he was alone on the battlefield.  
BLU's started storming the center. The Heavy was pushed back, into the safety of the enemies sentry, which however he found destroyed, the Engineer lying in a puddle of blood with a deep stab wound in his back. In panic, the Heavy started shooting in every direction, unfortunately sending the Sniper back into respawn.  
“Ya did good, slim.” Engineer muttered to the shot body that slumped next to his sentry, as he packed his things. “Gotta move that gear up!” he announced, rushing together with their Pyro and...

“ _BOOM!_ I'm back, dummy!” Scouts foot came quicker than Engineer could actually react. It pushed against the hardhat on his skull, and the entire weight of scouts dainty body pushed itself off of his yellow helmet. Engineer tumbled backwards, nearly tripped. He quickly pushed the lip up again to see what just happened, and watched as the Blu Scout hopped quickly into the air and landed with a rather unpleasant 'crack' sound at the floor, yet he kept running like the little jack-rabbit he was.  
Both the speedster and the firebug rushed towards the unprotected point – being surprised by the enemy Demo.  
  
“Ah, jeez!” Scout yelped as he ducked from a sailing grenade being hauled into his direction.  
“KABLOOIE!!” The scotsman yelled with a quick sip from his scrumpy bottle, followed by a belch. Pyro airblasted them back at the spry demo, who was setting traps, snickering in the thrill of anticipation of getting two blus in one explosion; the last thing the scotsman saw and heard was a shift in the air and the words 'sandsman' carved into the bat that was smashed into his face. Demo collapsed with a broken nose and a strangled cry in pain, the whiskey bottle tumbling over and pouring over the controlpoint. There was no defense left, and Blu was free to capture.  
  
“Whohoo! Alright, lets move it up, lets move it u--”  
Scout landed on the now free controlpoint, slipped in the puddle of alcohol the demo had left there, and tumbled over with a yelp, landing on his bum. The rest followed, Pyro quickly moving to his friend to help him up, Medic and Heavy joining to capture.  
Scout quickly jumped back on his feet, examining his soaked pants.  
“Aaargh! You GOTTA be kiddin' me!”  
“Whats se matteur?” Spy suddenly de-cloaked next to the speedster. “Wet yeur pants a little?”  
  
Heavy, Medic and Pyro fell into raucous guffaw, while slowly the countdown counted down to zero.  
"We have secured the central control point. ALERT – the second control point is being contested." the old woman's voice echoed.  
"Good night, Irene." the engineer sighed frustratedly, grabbing two toolboxes at once, and followed the rest of the team, over the bridge. Towards the Red respawn area, where the next controlpoint waited. Engineer wheezed with the weight of two toolboxes on his shoulders, being considerably slower than the rest. The slim wooden bridge beneath him creaked dangerously beneath his weight. He really wasn't keen on landing in the water now, being not the best at swimming.  
  
His negligence of what his team was doing, he didn't notice the huge wall of muscles that was Heavys back. He tumbled as he collided with him and dropped his toolboxes. “What in Sam's Hill...?” He sputtered. “Heavy, get movin'!”  
“Nyet.” Heavy said, not budging. That's when Engie noticed Heavy wasn't the only one who didn't move. Medic didn't either. And so did their Demo. And their Scout, Pyro and Sniper..  
“Dammit fellas, what in tarnation ya waitin' for?”  
  
He squeezed between the Heavy's fat belly and Pyro's generous love handles, just to notice the closed RED doors to the second controlpoint.  
“The Spook's checkin' in there...” Demo explained. The tension around them was unmissable. Demo had his thumb attentively at the barrel of his grenade launcher - nudged it around, as well as Heavy keeping his finger at the trigger.  
“Whats takin' him so long...?” the mechanic wondered, and closed in to the door, pressing his helmeted skull against it to eavesdrop.  
  
“Hmumph!” Pyro instantly grabbed for Engineer's sleeve, pulling him back, frantically shaking his head. Don't get to close, he begged. “What? Ya think its gonna explode if ah get too close?”  
Possibly? The firestarter shrugged. “We ain't made of sugar cubes! And Ah fer sure ain't gonna wait for the snake ta come at us when they already capped.--” - “ _We have lost the controlpoint!_ ” The Administrator announced suddenly. The counter for Red's capture had turned to zero the moment Engineer had lifted his head to check.  
  
“Shucks...” Engineer growled. Well, now they had two options; spreading and defending their middle point from being taken again, or they would storm in and push RED back to their borders. Engineer was about to turn and take his toolbox, see what the team would agree to, yet he could imagine none of them would risk defending over pushing and winning faster. After all, they were all respawned, overhealed, and spurred with determination--  
  
Thats when the doors behind him suddenly sprang open. Engineer barely noticed the bright glowing person that ran into him, as he was suddenly knocked over with a uncharacteristically strength which he had no chance against. His head landed on the flat ground and the hardhat cracked slightly, everything suddenly became warm. Very warm. The smell of burning flesh went up into his nostrils and made him nearly gag.  
  
“Fire, Fire, Fiiire!!” The heavy thing on top of him cried, gurgled, convulsed. Engineer was grabbed by an icy hand of panic, he frantically pushed the burning french man off his body, as the poor sap perished at his feet. Flames engulfed Engineers overall. Hectically, he puffed out the few flames that he had caught and tumbled back, to the rest of the shocked mercenaries. Dead silence spread over them for a few moments...  
  
“Err...” Medic poked Heavy on the shoulder. “Vhat is happening now...?”  
  
The sudden blast that came behind that very door that hauled the metallic slide door into the air and tore the Medic off his feet at instant was a good answer at hand. The enemies Pyro, the flamerthrower clutched in his hand, and a bloodthirsty glimpse in that oblivious dreamworld of his, sprayed a true firestorm. Crimson flames latched onto clothes, burned the bearers within seconds to extends that they weren't able to stand or breath anymore, the lucky ones that fled were wounded, yet alive. Engineer wasn't spared. An airblast had pushed him away, off his feet and into the air, his shirt burning.  
  
“Agh, ugh, fire !!” he whined, tried blowing out the flames. He hit the ground, back-first. He was sure he broke his arm. Or his leg. Maybe both. He saw stars for a second, then his vision cleared, he heard the cries of pain around him, the flames that ate his teammates.  
“Kritz-attack!” They called among each other. Oh...so it seemed RED has changed their tactic.  
Heavy stood alone, fighting off the Pyro, and the rest of the Red's that now spread over the freshly captured controlpoint. Somehow, he, Sniper and Demo were still alive, while the rest was on their way through respawn. Heavy fired bullets after bullets, pushing away the pyro, until killing him, destroying an about to be build sentry.  
  
“Graaaah!” he yelled. The cries in pain echoed over the fields, blood coated the walls and the floors, bits of flesh slapped into Heavys face. “Cry some moooore!!” They were four, against the entire RED team. Well, not four really. But five.  
Soldier had sailed over to their spot through the air, firing missiles at the enemies, spreading in their core.  
“ _MAGGOTS_!” he roared majestically. His rockets detonated on the ground and shot shrapnel into every corner, one flew into the enemies Medic's skull, who cried out and dropped his kritzkrieg. Just after landing on his feet, he shot up into the air again, firing.  
  
“I am going to enjoy kill EACH and EVERYONE of you sorry sacks of scum!!”  
“Soldier, watch out!!” a voice suddenly yelled behind him.  
  
The veteran reacted instantly, his head turning to the source of the voice, yet couldn't locate it. Watch out for what...?  
He didn't see the silver light that flashed into his direction. He did feel it though. The sudden pain in his upper arm threw him out of his rage. Soldiers eyes moved to the suddenly very hot, burning ahce at his arm. A knife stuck in there. Not any knife. A cleaver had buried itself through his clothes, flesh and into his bone, blood oozing from the wound, streaming down his arm into his jacket, to his pants as well. He tumbled midst air, no, he plummeted from ten feet in height, into the heat of battle. There was no way he could survive such a fall. No way. He would surely have broken his neck on the impact, or even if he did, he would surely bleed to death! Soldier however didn't feel pain as he landed. He heard a loud splash as the ground beneath him gave way, and he was engulfed in coldness all of the sudden. For a second it felt similar to the grip of death that held him shortly before respawn pushed him back into the light...

It was dark around him. But not too dark. There, right above him, was a light, blurred, which kept moving around in spastic movements. He felt like hovering, and yet he sank...  
He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe?

His attention was drawn to a figure that suddenly emerged from a fog of small bubbles, a face. Brown eyes, glistening at him. No, just...one eye.  
Soldier squinted slightly, staring at the figure in front of him. His friend. His best friend...  
Tavish.  
  
There was something in his hand, he just...couldn't really see what it was...  
A swift swing. Pain. Something exploded right to his helmet, the metallic orb banging hard against his temple. He caught himself, his vision spinning, his eyes straightened again to watch dark splinter sailing down into the black deep beneath them. Bottle...  
That was Tavish's weapon...  
  
A jolt went through Soldier. His brain caught up. No. That wasn't Tavish. That was his enemy. His archenemy. A Traitor! A nemesis to the true american spirit! Soldiers fist curled, the water around them gave his power some delay, yet it was powerful as it struck RED Demo right in the face. The scotsman held his bleeding nose, there was a muffled sound, and seconds later, the bottle that had burst at Soldiers helmet, stabbed right into his thigh. Soldier ignored the blood that oozed out of his leg, and his arm, ignored the plumes of red that tumbled between the two fighters to the surface. Two hands lashed out for him, grabbed his throat.  
  
He knew what that scotch son-of-a-bitch was going to do! No way he would let this greasy one-eyed crossdresser drown him here! He wouldn't die here, not by his hand! Soldier's hand snatched for Demo's neck as well, pressed it tight. Demo's eye widened suddenly, but he stared back at him with anger sitting deep. He was determined. But the commando was determined too. Dark spots started building around Soldiers vision. His lungs started burning from the lack of oxygen and the struggle to keep his mouth shut behind the bared snarl he displayed. The two struggled, twitched in the water, legs kicking, hands pressing together around necks that gagged for air.  
  
Air...  
He needed air...  
Demo could see that too, and with the last bit of his strength, he bared his teeth into a grin. A hand closed around his skull. Demo's face changed into confusion just in time, before the hand twisted the skull around, breaking his neck. Soldier felt the hands around his neck loosen. He watched as the lifeless body sank, past him down into the water; vanishing deep in the depths of the canals. A last few bubbles slipped from his lips and escaped to the surface, before he was swallowed.  
Surface...  
Surface!!  
  
Soldier suddenly realized! Air. He needed air, now!!  
He started swimming. The light above him was so far away, further than before. He swam, kicked his legs and flailed his arms around with the small amounts of power he had left. He had to get up there. He had to escape, or he would...  
He would...  
  
His powers were sucked out of him at sudden. He gasped for air, and water filled his lungs, he gagged and coughed, struggling against the burning in his lungs.  
The dark spots around his vision slowly grew, enlarged. Until his entire view would be covered in dark spots. And then grow dark...  
  
A hand grabbed for the Soldier's jacket. He felt a tug, someone pulling at him. Light! Light everywhere. And air. Soldier gasped as oxygen filled his lungs, yet instantly spat out large amounts of water the moment he was dragged out of the water.  
“There ya go, Soldier-boy.” A voice ushered into his ear. Soldier grabbed onto the concrete floor beneath him like his life depended on it, while he vomited water out between wheezing coughs. His vision was blurry, yet once he started breathing normally again, it seemed to clear slowly. His eyes moved up, to the hand that rested on his shoulder.  
  
Along the sturdy arm that belonged to a strong shoulder and stocky frame. Tanned glasses stared at him. “Ya want me ta get the doc here?” Engineer asked. Soldier stared back for a few moments.  
“Ya bleedin' from...well, pretty much everywhere.”  
Soldier felt a warm stream flowing down his temple. He put fingers at his hairline and looked down at the fingertips. Blood. He looked to the right of his upper arm. Blood. His pants. Blood.  
His eyes moved up to his savior in the last moment.  That sudden realization brought the Soldier crashing back down into his bullet-riddled body.  
  
“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, MAGGOT!!” He yelled. Engineer flinched and instantly drew his hand away from the man. The veteran jumped back on his feet at instant. “We are at the verge of loosing AGAIN! And YOU pull out bodies out of the water?!”  
“Whu--?” Engineer blinked. “But...Sal, we won!”  
  
“DO NOT IGNO—Wait. We won?” Soldiers eyes blinked, observing his surroundings. Blu was chasing around the fleeing Red's, killing remaining livings.  
  
“ _Good, I'm giving you a bonus_.” The smoke-ridden voice of the administrator echoes. “ _Now,_ _CLEAN UP AND REPORT FOR DEBREIFING._ ”  
  
Engineer speaks the truth – and that slowly sinks into the Soldier's mind as well. Once it did, his face changed back into the stoic mask of professionalism. He pushed himself off the ground, and struggled against the immobility of his right leg, so Engineer kneels down. “Come on then.” He slug the Soldiers mighty arm around his shoulder.  
  
“I don't need your help.” he grunted.  
“Sure ya don't.”  
Engineer slowly heaves the man in a standing position, fresh blood squirting from the crescent moon shaped cut in his fatiques. Soldier gave little than another pitiful little grunt and bared his teeth; fingers that refused to touch now clawed at Engineer's overall. “There ya go, hoss. Lets get you moving to the doc.”  
  
“I don't need the doc! I do not feel pain! I do not have TIME to feel pain!! ” Soldier barked, and tried pulling away from Engineer – until he struggled his way off of his hold. Standing on his own seemed to pain the man. But he ignored it as best as he can. “Sal yer bleedin' a hella lot.”  
  
“I DO NOT NEED A ME—Aagh.” Soldier had forgotten about the wound for just a mere second as he had made the step towards him. Engineer caught him, more or less with grace and with a huge effort to keep himself standing. “Easy now...” he slowly lowered the man back to the floor.  
“Get me up, I can stand on my own!” Soldier kept griping. He didn't realize the way Engineer held the man up would be considered, well...unprofessional on the battlefield. He held his upper body up, with his legs supporting him, and his arms slung around him. “Doc, we need yer help here.”  
  
“Jawohl!” The attentive voice eched as Medic inched close – stopping once he realized for whom the doctor was called.  
“...Ah, err, Herr Soldier, vhat a...surprise you're ca--”  
“Stop the coddled wishy-washy and do your job!” the patriot spat. The Soldiers attempts to come free were only halfhearted by now, and he stopped once he was finally forced into the caring hands of Medic. Engineer sighed, and straightened his back as he stood - not realizing the intense look Pyro gave him from the other side of the grounds; the broom in his hand shaking slightly.

 

“Does it still hurt?” Engineer asks carefully.  
“What?” Soldier mutters. The tinkerer's hand motions to his own thigh, tapping the invisible wound. Soldier stares at him and then down at his own leg, examining the still fresh, dark red and pink cut. He puts on that expression as if he hadn't noticed it had been there the whole time.  
“Oh, this...?” Soldier brushes a handful of water over it. It must burn like shit, Engineer thought, especially now in the water, under the shower, with soap spilling down his body - but Soldier doesn't even make a face.  
  
“Yeah. Boy, that Scout an' Demo gotcha real good there, huh?” He recalled the cleaver flying across the battlefield and nearly dodging engineer's head, before sinking into the Soldier's shoulder instead. Soldier just scowls. “Pain is the weakness leaving the body.” he explains gruffly.  
Engineer whistles lowly. “Whoo-whee. Can't say ah've heard that one before then.” Most probably because he didn't read any of Sum tzu's arts of war books, or in fact, made up own catchphrases like the Soldier did. “So that's the reason ya never visitin' the medic, huh?”  
  
“I don't need a frilly apron wearing nurse running after me all the goddamn time like the sputnik! I do not have time to feel pain when I have to tear apart those filthy communists taking MY intelligence and capturing MY points!”  
  
“Y'know, ya should go get that checked nevertheless. We ain't want'cha to get that infected, huh?”  
“This wound is subjected to MY commands! It won't do anything different than healing before I SAY SO!” Soldier had twisted his head and shouted at his own shoulder. God, he forgot, he was talking to a madman. “Well boy, if ya think ya body's gonna listen to ya commands all the time, ya gonna have a bad time.” Engineer drawled. “Ya can't control everythin', hm?”  
“Oh really?” Soldier's voice had a defiant tone. “Tsk, if we could control anythin', ah wouldn't be havin' any trouble with 'em spah's, huh?”  
  
Soldier's determined face crumbled at that. Engineer was right. He was always right. Muttering something unintelligible, he eyes his wound, and then returns to washing his hair. He wasn't going to admit that he both hated and loved the way Engineer's words always made sense to him, no matter how elaborate he thought his decisions were.  
  
No matter what he confided to him, the red-blooded texan knew a better plan, without making him feel like an idiot; even though it was easy to find adjustments to his mindsets. Too easy almost. Engineer knew though that Soldier's way of thinking was different from his – or an other sane people. Soldier doesn't want to stick around medic, although he should need medical attention.  
  
Soldier doesn't understand why after eating a crate full of honeyjars makes him sick, but it's pretty much self-explanatory. Soldier also knows that he never was allowed to enter any certificated army of the united states, and yet he goes, all alone, on a Nazi killing spree to Europe. The man's past is not a secret to him. They had been colleagues for a long time by now, and everyone knew almost everything about each other. The information that was available at least.

It must have been scary, all alone in a raging war, lost in the cold tundra of Poland with no sound but the blowing wind and gunfire. Engineer had never witnessed any wars, never fought in one. The horror's it bore were spared. But not to Soldier. He had seen things. Things a normal mortal shouldn't witness. What was it that lead him to do this? There was no doubt that there was always a reason for Soldier to go into battle on his very own at the age of eighteen, to move to every military branch available in america and never getting accepted by any, to eventually join BLU to kill and get killed, over and over again.  
  
What were his reasons? His motives?  
Was it honor, like Soldier always claimed? Was it the need of acceptance, or letting his repressed anger flow out of him?  
  
Or was it plainly madness?  
  
Engineer nearly didn't dare to look at the man that stood under the calming, warm spray of the water. He had never really seen his face without the helmet on. Never, in fact, had he showered right next to him. He saw the weather-beaten, scarred face of the elder man, the baby blue eyes staring aimlessly at his feet, the angular masculine shapes and edges, the wrinkles around the corner of his mouth and cheekbones.  
  
He looked old for his actual age. Tired. Almost sad, he dared to say. What he saw here was not the blue eyes red blooded all American man of rage and anger and blood lust, but the beast at rest, fallen back into its shell before it would strike once again as soon as he would enter the battlefield. Engineer couldn't help, but trail his eyes up and down the man's body, soaking in every inch of soft skin stretched over stone-hard muscles. He was huge and broad, at least compared to him, the smallest teammember. There was almost something inside him that would have called the Soldier beautiful.  
  
But who was he to judge what beauty is? He solves practical problems, not philosophical.  
  
Engineer grabbed the soap and lathered his hands, washing off the dust and sweat and mud from today's battle. The awkward silence prolongs, with Engineer still not fully knowing what to do or say. Thank you? Or good job? Soldier knew he did a good job, and thanking him was not necessary, he had said it himself. But how else was he going to express his gratitude for the partial teamwork this morning ?  
  
He felt the need to say something to him, to communicate with this man, but how?  
Perhaps, he thought, he should just get done already and worry about it tomorrow morning. Soldier would want him to be up and ready to go, and he wouldn't miss it. Engineer ruffled over his short sandy hair, let the water run down his body and wash dirt and sweat off him, before turning the faucet, turning his back to the man and heading for the lockers.  
  
“Where do you think you're going, private?”  
Engineer jerks at the sudden gruff voice behind him. He slowly turned back to face the Soldier. From the way his eyebrows were furrowed and his lip tugged up in a scowl he was definitely not pleased by the Engineer's idea of leaving so suddenly.  
  
“Ah'm needin' permission ta leave the shower as well?” he asked in a daring cocky voice. “You have not fulfilled the measures of acceptable hygiene yet.” Soldier was quick to extend his hand, grabbing Engineer by the shoulder and pulling him back under the spray of water. The texan gasped, but didn't struggle as he felt himself being gently pushed against the wall, with Soldier behind him.  
  
“No wonder you get caught by the bloody frenchman all the time, he smells you from over two miles! They have a sixth sense for bad scents.” - “Well, ain't that charmin'...” Engineer drawled. Soldier grabbed the piece of his own soap and rubbed it rather roughly over Engineer's shoulderblades. “Charm has no space in battle. I want my men clean and ready for war. And since you don't have hands sticking outta your _backside_ , you need some assistance here.” - “Well...much obliged partner.”  
  
Soldier only grunted as a reply. There was something strangely pleasant in the way the rough man was massaging and squeezing over Engineer's shoulders and sides to rub in the coat of soap. He wasn't in any way gentle with this, but how could he judge him – tenderness had no place in battle either, he mused. With a small sigh, he arched his back into the man's busy hands anyway. Soldier furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, running his fingers over the smaller mans stonehard shoulderblades. Well, he might be a little fat around the middle, but years of carrying those large toolboxes around had payed off nicely. He almost slipped a compliment at this, but halted. This maggot didn't deserve any recognition until he could see some progress in their training.  
  
Something then _did_ strike his admiration however. Just now as the water washed away the foam, he came to notice the strange white coloration's along his skin that seemed so out of place. They varied from long thin lines to round, rough shapes. Some around the areas of his lats, the others around the spine and lower back. Just by now the Soldier came to understand that these were scars. Soldier never knew he had any of these.  
  
_'He always hides behind his pile of scrap like the coward he is'_ Soldier had declared often enough, even in the presence of the tinkerer. He wouldn't get any serious marks of any battle he had fought when all he does is letting his machinery do the work. But that was a false accusation, he learned. There was a line of several small holes running  diagonally across his spine that could have been put there in rapid succession by a machine gun.  
  
A mark, as large as his own hand marked the lower half of his back in a mildly deeper shade than his normal skincolor, a burn wound or infected cut. But what strikes the military man's eyes were the many large white gapes along his neck and shoulders, mostly located on the left side. Right in the narrowed space between shoulderblades and ribs. Spies were terrible specimen. They knew where to hit the blade to leave internal damages that were irreparable until respawn picked them up, knew how to trick even the smartest man in their team. And he was sure, that RED was taking particular joy in making the engineer suffer as long as possible.  
  
Engineer has noticed how Soldier's touch softened all of the sudden. He was absent-minded and trailed his fingers over the contours of his skin that were there since he was born or inflicted by others. It wasn't so bad, the ache of a blade in his back was not as painful as getting burned alive, and respawn was always trusty to pick him up. But it left scars, nevertheless. And Soldier traced each of them with a strange delicacy. By now his rough rubbing and squeezing changed into a slow paced stroking, and he felt his large hand move up to his nape and caressing it. Engineer swallowed thickly at the sudden tenderness he didn't know the Soldier would be able to muster. And then something urged the rocketman forwards and he pressed his lips against the large white scar. Engineer gasped. The sudden contact of warm, calloused lips against that sensitive part of skin caught him with surprise, and he wheeled around, staring back at the larger man.  
  
“Sal, what in sam's hill--?”  
A firm, seeking mouth crashed fervently against his own. Teeth clacked against his own awkwardly, Engineer leaned back, his back pressing against the wall by that sudden attack of lips on his, and his first impulse was to break free. Soldier's hands closed around his shoulders in a tight grip. His entire body told him 'stay'. And oddly enough, the tinkerer did. With hesitation, or rather since he hadn't had much of an option, he opened his mouth a little more and pressing his lips against Soldier's. He replied eagerly, tongue propping out and sinking into Engie's mouth, brushing and rubbing over his own. A moan rumbled through their throats. Engineer's hands lashed out, grabbed the next thing he could reach, which were Soldier's massive shoulders. This was definitely not what Engineer had expected from the man that claimed open love was for hippies only, and did he know how much Soldier hated them. But here he was, kissing him, with such an odd desperation... “Soldier...?” He tries to get his mind out of that hazy cloud they were both trapped inside and grab a a string of coherent thought. 

Soldier didn't reply, nor did he let that stop him from cupping engineer's face in his large paws, drawing him back and deeper against his lips.  
Soldier leaned his chest against his own, pressing him into the wall, hand on Engineer's jaw, the other kneading down his nape, his back and his sides, and stopped right before his hand would slip too low. He broke away, just as sudden as he had sealed their mouths. Both were panting from the temporary lack of air around them, and the hot humid air heated by the water spraying down on both of them didn't quite help to catch their breath. Engineer stared back at the man's eyes, searching for an answer, for a track to run on. But Solly stared back with the same clueless, lost expression. He jerked his hands away then, and stepped backwards. His adams apple bobbed up nervously.  
  
“You're ready to go now, Engie...” he said then. His voice was only a decibel of the usual volume of his booming voice. Engineer blinked back at the man with confusion. “Wh—Wha--?” he barely managed to mutter.  
“My duties are done here. You're dismissed.” But he himself turned around then, grabbed his helmet and towel and placed his kevlar back on his head, and the towel around his hips and marched out of the room, as fast as he possibly could. Engineer still stood in the spray of the shower, staring at the door that slowly closed after Soldier had left. His mouth felt dry all of the sudden.

 


	3. Justifying

“Agh, it's friggin' freezin' here...” Scout grabbed the edges of his blanket an little tighter around his shoulders.  
“Son, don't put'cha feet on the seats.”  -  “What, ya want me ta freeze or what?”  
“No, ah dun' wanna clean up the train if the administrator finds out we're pollutin' her property.”  
“Oh jeez, like she would fucking care.” But the Bostonian nevertheless lowered his feet down on the floor again, hunch over his thighs.  
“Ah told'cha take some warm clothes with ya.”  
“Ya didn't tell me it would be friggin' Alaska-cold though!”  
  
Engineer sighed. He had told Scout their next mission was going to be in Alaska. At least thrice. But Scout had insisted that he would warm up during the battle anyway, so there was no need for any jackets or warm sweater. Heck, he even laughed at the large Blu colored turtleneck sweater the Engineer wore beneath his overall, with the large Letter “E” on top. E for Engineer. It was a nice pullover his mother had made for him back when he was just starting at his job as the team's mechanic, and he gladly wore it every year at christmas and whenever the temperatures fell down to minus degrees. He felt a little like one of the Weasley kids.  
  
Now Engineer had a reason to laugh at the shuddering, sniffling ball of Scout that rubbed his hands together and blew hot air into his palms, but he really wasn't the kind of guy that liked to show glee. Medic did. Sniper did. Heck, everyone in the team actually did, but he instead leaned his chin on his palm and stared outside the window into the endless snowcovered prairie. They had passed valleys of high mountains and beautiful landscapes, a few animals jumped surprised at the sound of the train rushing lonely through the nature. And then everything changed from green trees and sunshine into a land of ice and snow.   
  
“Shall I go get Pyro ?” Engie asked. “He wouldn't let'cha freeze here.”  
“Uh, yeah, well, he would also burn off my hair, or make a campfire outta my backpack!” Scout drew his rucksack protectively close to his chest, as if it would bestow warmth.  
  
Engineer stretched his arms. “Fine then, ah'm askin' Heavy if he's got a spare sweater for ya.” He needed some kind of movement anyway or he'll freeze on his seat.  
He exited their cabin, stretched his arms and twisted his shoulders from the left to the right, and moved down the hallway, past Spy's and Pyro's cabin which was already covered in drawings the little firebug had scribbled on the walls and Spy smoked his cigarette sunken in his magazines, past Demo's and Sniper's, in which he only saw both of them passed out and leaning against each other in a uncharacteristically sweet way. With a modest knock against Medic's and Heavy's cab, he waited until they stopped their cardgame.  
  
“Dha?” Heavy poked his head out of the half-opened door.  
“Uh, ya fella's got any spare sweater for Scout? He's freezin' a helluva lot, yknow.”  
“Nyet.” Heavy answered dryly. “Heavy do not have spare pullover.” and he was about to close the door again. “Now now, Heavy.” Medic tut-tutted. “At least give zhe poor boy your jacket, ja? Bitte.”  
  
The russian grunted, but turned around then and started shuffling through his luggage. It was amazing how easily the german had been able to wrap the large russian around his finger. Sometimes they acted like an old married couple. Not necessarily adorable in any sense. “How are you, Dell? Already excited for zhe new mission?” Medic smiled his lopsided grin. Engie was used to the constant changes of addressing. It seemed that around others, medic turned into a compete professional, but when both men worked together in privacy, he would use his real name quite a lot. “Ah, yeah, well...ah'm jus' hopin' RED ain't waitin' for us already vith boom and kabloowie.”  
  
“Oh, don't you vorry about zhat.” Medic shrugged that off with a flop of his hand. “Zhey might not play very fair, but zhey at least should have enough decency to give us zhe time to settle into our new base.”  
Medic was right about that, he supposed. Last month, RED had mercilessly waited at the train station at Powerhouse and blown everything up. Luckily for them, Respawn was activated as soon as the arrived, but it was a curse, collecting all their stuff back from the exploded trainwreck. It was hella funny though when the administrator declared BLU as the winner and they chased RED across the entire field, making them jump off the cliffs into their own suicide. Better than ending as nothing but a head in medic's fridge at least. And afterwards, Scout and pyro would throw rolls of toiletpaper across RED's base and laugh their asses off. But no matter how funny that memory was, optimally, it shouldn't happen again.  
  
“Didn't you tell Scout to dress properly for zhis trip? Ve gonna be fighting in ice and snow for zhe next zhree days!”  
“Well, ah did, the lil' scoundrel didn't wanna listen ta me.” “Oh zhat is a _katastrophe_. I can't have him running a cold, or zhe flu vhile in battle. Heavy, mach schnell, get zhe jacket already!” The russian growled slightly.  
“Say, Dell...have you lost weight?” Medic suddenly noted. Heavy stopped roaming his backpack and looked up as well now, eyeing Engineer's midsection. Engineer couldn't help but feel his cheeks heating up a little. He was the first one to notice actually, and hearing that from a doctor may not be the nicest compliment.  
  
“Uh—ah guess?” Engineer shows a crooked grin.  
“I could svear you look slimmer zhe last time I--- Are you not feeling vell?”  
“Nah, don't worry doc. Me and Sal-- ah, Soldier, we've been doin' some workout lately, y'know.” He tried to play it cool, but secretly, he was looking for some kind of opportunity to find a mirror and see it himself.  
  
“You friends vith Soldier?” Heavy asks.  
  
“Me? Nooo, no, no - not at all...We're jus'...hangin' out, is all. He gives me some private trainin', I give him company. The old sonuvabitch needs it.”  
Heavy eventually drew a large, blue jacket from his suitcase, and handed it over to the Engineer. It was, indeed large. Scout would have fitted three times into that garment. He was about to slip a comment, but seeing as Heavy was already staring intensely at him with a hint of what could be either boredom or anger ( you never knew with this colossus ), he decided not to.  
  
“Ah, appreciated, hombre.” Engineer carefully folded the jacket.  
“Ees jacket from dustbowl mission.” Heavy informed out of the blue.  
“Okay...?” Engineer nodded.  
“Earned it. Ees expensive. Tell scout Heavy vill crush him if he spills milk on it.”  
The texan knew he was not joking. He would most definitely crush him as soon as respawn was active. “Sure thing, Heavy. Ah'll be makin' sure he'll treat it with care.”  
  
“Oh, and vhile you're on your vay...” Medic turned away from the door, and sunk his hands in one of the bags.”Here, it's for Soldier.He needs to eat, he already refused breakfast."  
  
Engineer took the little meal in the form of a half-cut sandwich wrapped in foil before he could ask why out of all people he had to approach him, but the door already closed shut right before his nose. He blinked under his goggles a few times. And then he sighed. Besides the morning training, Engineer had the feeling that Soldier was avoiding him, Or maybe, _he_ was.  
  
It didn't matter, Soldier seemed to grow distant from him, ever since that incident. Maybe he regretted whatever decision his birdbrain had planned there, and hoped to spare the awkwardness by keeping his distance. Fact was though, it was only becoming more awkward the longer the matter was not addressed . The wordless greetings when they passed each other in the hallways, the uneasy silence between them while working out together. Heck, it even felt like Soldier was deliberately trying to avoid entering the washrooms whenever he would think he himself was using the showers. Well, he wouldn't judge him. It had been a strange move, which shouldn't have been a surprise, since; well, it's Soldier after all.  
  
He was impetuous and spontaneous. Unpredictable. But that was most probably the most rash actions he had done so far.  
  
Engineer moved through the train and hands Scout the large sweater, which he cocoons himself in and his shuddering slowly fades. He looks much better now too, color returns to his face and he smiles again. Then he moves to the very end of the vehicle, the last cab which soldier had occupied. The man was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and legs angled on the bench he lied on, his helmet slipped over his nose and covered eighty percent of his face now. It was strange to notice that although he wasn't wearing his usual blue coat, he wasn't shivering at all. Not a tiny bit. Engineer pondered if he should return later and let him sleep, but maybe he would become hungry and which way could be better but waking up to food on the table? So, he carefully opens the door himself and slides it to the side. Soldier still sleeps. His even snoring echoes over the rattle of the train. Engineer cautiously extends his hand to place the foiled meal on the table.  
  
“I did not give you permission to enter my domicile.”  
Engineer flinched so hard he almost dropped the sandwich. His eyes dart back to the man lying on the bench. Soldier had his thumb hooked under the rim of his helmet and had it pushed up just closely before it would reveal his eyes. He was awake. Weirdly enough not even slightly dazed or numb from his previous slumber.  
“W-Were you......I was....i mean...” Engineer stammers and can't stop it, many words and forms of apologies flood his mind all at once and he can't settle on one that would lift at least an ounce of awkwardness. The veteran was not good at reading other people's facial expressions, but that confused gaze was unmissable. “You have fallen for my tactic I see? I would have thought better of you.”  
  
“Tactic? Wh—What tactic?”  
  
“This is a dangerous world, hardhat! One wrong step and you are dead. That is why I pretended over the last five hours to be asleep in order to trick any enemy spies that have sneaked inside here, and then strike when they dare to get too close to me.”  
  
Soldier squinted behind his helmet. “Seems like we're safe though: you have wandered around this train for over twenty minutes added together, and you're still alive – that, or you're a spy!”  
“Dagnabbit; Sal, I'm not...--- You have... _pretended_ over five hours ta be sleepin'? Without movin' or anythin'?” Engineer blinked rapidly under his goggles.  
“Better save than sorry maggot! You should learn that by now, your tactic for perfect camouflage is to hide behind your _sodamachine_!”  
Soldier eyes the foiled package in his hand.  
  
“What is that?”  
  
“Uhm...your breakfast.”  
  
Engineer hesitatingly holds it in his direction. Soldier grimaces in disgust. “Is that one of Heavy's? Tell him to take it back and shove it far up his backside! I don't need this commie fast food.”  
“Ya should be eatin' something though! Ya haven't had any food the entire day.”  
“How would you know, huh? Are you spying after me? Soldier suddenly rose from his seat and towered over the Engineer. “No, no no, Sal, look...calm down, alright?” Somewhat mechanically, the mechanics hand had grabbed the Soldier's lower arm to keep him away from approaching. Soldier's feature did relax at that. “Ah'm just...worried you might pass out all of the sudden. Please jus'...at least eat the bread, yeah?”  
  
The Soldier clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Fine, you little _nance!_ ” he snatched the sandwich from the Engineer, and turned back around to sit down on the bench again. “But if you put anything inside there--”  
“Ah promise, hoss, got nothin' in and out.” he raised his hands in defence. Soldier grunted, nodded and began to eat with small bites. Engineer continued to stand between the door and deliberate if Soldier wanted him to leave or stay, and after a while, he started wiggling a little around on his feet so they won't fall asleep. “Uhm, well, uh, ah think I'm gonna---”  
“There.” Soldier holds out the other half of the bread. “Sit down, private.”   
  
“Ahh, much obliged partner, but ah've already eaten, so---”  
“That was not a request!”  
  
Engineer sat down so quickly he actually nearly knocked over the table that stood between them. Soldier thrust the sandwich into his direction. “I'm not getting one more of those things down.” he growled. Engineer started eating slowly, the previous awkwardness now continuing on a new level. The room was filled with the clumsy noises of clothes shuffling, train rattling and chewing and while Engineer tried not to maintain eyecontact with him too long, he stared outside the window, but that didn't promise him much either. Two hours now they were seeing nothing but endless fields of snow, a few trees here and there and the shadow of a mountain in the background.  
“How much longer we gonna sit in this lunchbox on wheels?” Soldier grunted angrily.  
“Hm, last time ah checked we still got a long ride. Ya ain't that much into roadtrips, huh, Solly?”  
“Why do you keep calling me that?” Soldier pouts.  
“Well, Soldier is quite a mouthful, hoss.”  
That's true. And since he called Engineer Engie a lot, he figured that was only fair. “You're the only one calling me like that.” he notices. “Quite disrespectful towards your sergeant, don't you think?”  
Engineer sinks deeper into his seat. “Ya want me ta stop sayin' it?”  
“...Negatory.” Soldier shakes his head after a moment of pondering.  
  
“Tell me, why ya sittin' here all by ya own, huh? Ah bet Demo and Sniper would have been glad ta have ya with 'em.”  
That was probably a lie, yet the only bait Engineer could think of.  
“Demo snores too loud.” Soldier speaks with his mouth full of sandwich. “And Sniper smells funny.” Engineer laughed at that. “Yeah, ya right about that ah s'ppose.” And then he once again speaks without thinking first and asks.  
“Ya wanna come over and sit with me and Scout?”  
Soldier heaves his head a little, looking back at the mechanic. He stops chewing, cheeks bulging with food, crumbles dropping from the corner of his mouth. Although most of his head was covered, Engineer could clearly see the off-guard look on his battle-ridden face.  
  
_Are you crazy? Scout will kill you!_ He scolded himself inwardly.  
“You...you're offering me to sit with you?” Soldier asks meekly.  
Damnhis sense for compassion sometimes...  
Engineer doesn't answer, but without wasting a second thought, he grabs the single bag that rested on the bench and draped it over his shoulder. The clanking and rattling inside told him that Soldier had more weaponry inside there than other utensils.  
  
“C'mon, hoss.” he opens the door for them. Soldier quickly jumps up to his feet, abandons the half eaten sandwich on the table and follows him down the corridor. Something about him suddenly seemed a little less sad than it was before.  
“So, yer training's payin' off nicely.” he smiles up at the veteran. “Medic's been noticin' ah'm loosin' weight.”  
“He's a doctor. It's his obligatory task to notice physical changes on teammates.” Soldier said, very unfazed. Again, there was no use in complimenting him, he knows he's doing a good job.  
“Well, probably. Ah'm still gonna take it as a compliment though.” And then Engineer chuckled and Soldier stares down at the man with the oddest expression. He wonders what goes through his head. Scout however has a reason less to laugh as he watches the door slide open, with engineer returning, Soldier following shortly after.  
  
“Ah, jeez! What the heck is _he_ doin' here?” the kid asks, neck deep in Heavy's jacket.  
“He's gonna ride with us.” Engineer explains, carefully placing Soldier's bag on the bench across from the boy. “If that's a'right with ya.”  
“Uh— _no?_ ” Scout grunts accusingly. He hasn't forgotten how often the Soldier had beaten him, 'diciplined' him, shoved his head face-first in his own food. “Anyone, but that old fart!” His finger points towards the helmeted man. Soldier only cringes, looking like a deer in the headlights. He would have blurted out a comment, yelled, probably even attack Scout, but he did none of these. Engineer decided to chide in. “Now stop that, Scout, didn'tcha mother teach ya not ta point at people?”  
“Didn't _his_ mutha told him not to beat up others.” Scout was still not dropping his arm. Engineer took a firm grasp of Soldier's arm suddenly and pushed him down, making him sit, next to him, on the bench. Beneath his goggles, he glares at the bostonian. “Y'know, ya free ta leave as well, city-boy. He'll stay. _Period."_  
Scout opens his mouth to respond, but closes it again quickly. Well, considering the choice between staying with Spy and Pyro, Demo and Sniper or Medic and Heavy, he figured the Engineer was still the sanest person in this entire train. And he kept Soldier on a short leash. He grumbles, and turns around, his back facing the two.  
“Fine, jus'-- don't start makin' out or somethin', ya old fags.”  
“What was that?” Engineer hisses.  
“Nuthin'.”  
Scout pretended to be asleep, huddled together with Heavy's sweat jacket draped over him like a blanket. To avoid any further conversations. Engineer didn't care. He turns to Soldier, and sees how uncomfortable he suddenly felt, wiggling on the spot, biting on his lip. “It's okay, Sal.” Engineer gently places his hand on the larger man's back and rubs it affectionately. Soldier peeks up at Engineer from beneath his helmet, and then back to his feet. “Thanks.” he mutters. And he really means it. The touch was strangely unfamiliar, but it calmed his body and mind down from bubbling anxieties. And Engineer's smile was contagious. Only that laughter and the rattles of the train. “No problem, partner.”

 

 

 

 

Snowplow was just like Miss Pauling had promised them – cold. Lonely. Nothing but snow and rocks, and more snow lied around them, and right through that lonely valley of never ending winter, there was an old, abandoned train station. Well, not entirely abandoned. Not since the Administrator informed BLU about a very special cargo was going to be delivered, but unfortunately, RED trapped the way. RED was told the same, Engineer supposed, only that they mustn't let said cargo break through their defenses, no matter what. The Engineer was probably besides Miss Pauling the only person aware of the conflicts between RED and BLU were all triggered by the same person. Controlled by the same person. He never mentions to anyone though, otherwise it was certain he wasn't going to witness the light of another day. He was not complaining. His task was to keep the team provided with health and ammo, and build his sentries.  
  
There was not much time for any team to get accustomed to the surroundings, as the doors opened with a loud swing and everyone blindly ran onto the battlefield. Heavy and Demo charged right out of respawn, Medic following both. Spy cloaks right away and follows Sniper, Pyro and Scout, and the last one was Soldier, his rocket launcher cradled to his neck and with a blast to his own feet, he launches off the ground and five feet into the air, flying over their heads like a hawk, bellowing obscenities at the top of his lungs and threatening the RED scum with every bodily harm imaginable.   
  
The train they were supposed to guide through looked quite out of place in this vast landscape of whiteness. It was old, black by gunpowder and rust growing over the metal shell. The huge bomb they were going to deploy rested on top, a little bit too vulnerable lying there simply draped the train with some screws, for his taste. Back in Gold Rush and Badwater, they at least had the decency to were given a bomb in a bulletproof shell, also on a cart with wheels that wouldn't stop right beneath a crane with a boulder dangling dangerously close to the train. Pyro signs into one of the empty houses, mumbles a muffled command, and Engineer is quick to follow. In the security of a wall, Engineer prepares the sentrygun.  
  
“Thanks, mister.” Engie smiles at his masked friend, before returning back to the base to pick up more scrap metal. He drops the toolbox with the teleporter entrance in front of the door, and quickly strives back to his little hiding place, puts up the dispenser. Occasional frantic bleeping echoed then, followed by screams in agony when the sentrygun caught RED's scout trying to sneak past their defense and attack the raging heavy from behind. Sometimes teammates gathered around the dispenser to refill their guns and regenerate when Medic was not around, each and everyone Pyro threw a skeptical glance under the mask. Not too often he would feel the need to raise his flamethrower and check if it really wasn't just a spook disguised as that Demoman that seemed awfully interested in his machinery, or that Scout that took a little too long crouching close to the dispenser. Engineer hears bullets flying in every direction at the second control-point they tried to occupy.  
  
It was taking too long. Everything went too slowly. Before Engineer can check what was hindering the team for further proceed, he suddenly hears the voice of the Administrator, loud and clear exclaiming “The enemy is about to deploy the device.” And then a countdown. By the beat of one, the boulder that was simply dangling over the bomb suddenly goes loose, and crashes with a loud explosion on the train. Shrapnel's fly in every direction, the blast alone send three teammember of BLU and RED sailing into the snow face-first, the enemies Soldier even hauled over the edge of the cliff and fall into the nearly never-ending depths of the mountain gulf. “Dammit, Dammit, Dammit...!!” Engineer growls, flicking the wrench in his grip and throwing it against the dispenser to further level it up. Pyro wants to ask whats wrong until suddenly Sniper appears close to them, blood splattered all over his face, panting and sweaty. He slumps down close to them, against the shell of the dispenser.  
  
“Sniper, how's the situation goin`?”  
“Level three sentry set up in the empty barn, and a Heavy Medic teamwork on top of the point. We can't get past 'em, mate.”  
“Ah hell...” Engie growls, watching from the distance as their team's infantryman and doctor tried their hardest to catch up with the continuously shooting around them. The blow of a Sniper rifle echoes over the field, Heavy screams, collapses, burying the german under his weight.  
The mechanic looks over his shoulder back to the supply room door. The counter said 16 seconds until full respawn.

“Dagnabbit, we're workin' too slowly! Where's that Spah? He's gotta take that Sentry down.”  
His eyes wander over the field. “A'right we need Heavy and Medic takin' the RED duo down, then we gotta make sure Spah's sappin' everythin' and Demo will blow that thing up, Sniper over there's gonna keep heatshootin' everyone and Scout MUST stay close to the controlpoint.”  
“ Mmh---Mm mhh!” Pyro pokes at Engie's shoulder.  
“Ah swear, if he's too busy takin' that piss drippin' Aussie down---”  
“ _MMPH!_ ” Pyro yelled through the mask.  
“What?!” Engie turns around, his eyes falling down to the Sniper that leaned against the dispenser. For a second he though it was only a blob of blood or water on his lenses, or a crack in his vision from throwing his head too fast around. But then he saw what Pyro meant. Sniper was standing at least five feet away from them, on top of a stack of boxes, the rifle in his hand and definitely not sitting close to them like... _he_ did. His gaze falls down to the Sniper leaning against his dispenser. Then he realizes – the healing fumes never lashed out cradle his body when he had approached. In the last minute, he notices that shit-eating grin appearing on the doppelganger, before vanishing into thin mist.  
“Spah!!” Engineer calls frantically, reaching for his shotgun, and Pyro started throwing fire around their little nest. Without any success however. Wherever that Spy had gone, he had vanished, and costed Engineer time and strength he could have put until leveling up his equipment.  
  
“Dagnabbit, _dammit_!!” Engineer growls. Suddenly, he hears another explosion. This time, it's not the train though. And not his equipment, thank god. But RED's sentry blows into a million pieces, some flying through the air and hitting the RED's doc. He cries out, drops the medigun and hysterically runs around, trying to pull out the large sharp shrapnel that is stuck in the right side of his skull. Their Heavy was alone now!  


“Go, Go, Go! CHARGE!” he hears an all too familiar voice echo over the field. Soldier flies over their heads, his boots catching fire and midair he swings the rocketlauncher back over his shoulder, draws his shovel, and _BAM_ – Heavy down.  
Only seconds later does Scout move his ass up the controlpoint, followed by spy who uncloaks and Sniper. For a moment Engineer is pondering if he should test the authenticity of this Sniper. Since the last one that approached them was a spook. But Sniper moves his weapon to his face, instead of making strange movements behind one of the teammates. This Sniper is the original one, or so, he supposes. Spies have their wicked ways to trick the smartest mind, but their disguises had flaws. It was hard to see through their facade; but not impossible. Once the controlpoint starts glowing blue, Engineer grabs his equipment. He hopes and believes the enemies spy has come to understand that attacking now would be a lethal mistake, with Heavy and Medic just storming out of the respawn and Pyro running close to their little Engineer.  
  
“Nice goin', partner!” Engie pants into Pyro's direction, and owns a happy wheeze that sounds like a chuckle. “But that Spah's still creepin' around here. We gotta be careful, yeah?”  
“Mh-hmmph!” Pyro nods, and together they follow the trains rails into a canopy and outside into an open forecourt. The train has stopped there, right above another crane with a car-wreck strapped on a very thin rope. It had crashed and stopped in a barricade of wooden planks. The controlpoint was only a few feet away from them – then he suddenly sees a large, very large and very angry shadow move in the barely illuminated snow, and then bullets zinging through the air.  
“Incoming!!” Demo calls, and instantly the team shatters, rolls behind barrels and walls, Engineer drops down flat on his stomach, the toolbox clattering and coming to a halt in the security of the arch of the staircase. The enemies Heavy is growling, bellowing in sheer fury over the battlefield and shooting fusillades into BLU's way.  
  
After a while, Scout, Spy, and Demo dare to approach the raging team on their last control-point. The last one was always the hardest, Engineer remembered. Corner a wild animal and it will unleash its true power. After a few moments of spying around and deliberating and calculating which spot would be the best to set his machinery up, he finds a spot behind a little hill, close to the train. If he can set his equipment up very quickly and without anyone noticing, he could mow down all the RED's that try to attack from behind. A short railing cuts off the battlefield from the hill. He could set up his dispenser there, giving his men shelter. If it wasn't a Soldier or a Demoman that would notice the blue fumes and occasional rattle, they should be save. He pokes Pyro, and with sign language ( other communication than gesticulation is not possible when they stand next to a shooting Heavy ), he orders him to follow. He does, they sneak behind Medic and Heavy and up the small staircase, through a short corridor and outside, ducking their heads and staying close to the fence in case someone saw them sneaking past them. Nobody does however. RED is frantically shooting every BLU away that dares to approach the lonely wooden house. Which is good, it gives them time, and Engineer calls only half as loud as usual “Dispenser goin' up.” he throws the box behind the fence, and the other against the wall. Both his machinery slowly sets itself up. Pyro keeps an eye on every movement that wasn't their own, here and there his finger is quivering over the trigger of his flamethrower, ready to set ablaze whatever dares to approach them. The second the sentrygun is up and ready, it detects movements and shoots. It hits the enemies Scout, right through his skull.  
  
“Whoo-wee.” Engineer smirks. Sometimes the blast of his own weaponry was even amazing himself. Pyro raises his thumb in his direction. Engineer grins.  
“We doin' mighty fine, hoss--!”  
  
Suddenly a black shadow flies over their heads and Engineer barely has time to draw his shotgun before it lands in the snowbank before them. Engineer raises his gun, and---  
“Sal...good night irene, ya scared me half ta death!” Engineer puffed out and lowers his gun. The smell of burned rubber and the silent hissing of fire extinguishing in the cold snow follows the man's heavy steps. He crouches next to the dispenser, the healing fumes lashing out and embracing him. He grunts, huffs, and then his eyes fall at both of them.  
“How are we holdin' up?” he asks. “Ya got the Heavy down?”  
He doesn't answer, only stares at the Pyro who holds his flamethrower ready and pointed at him, just in case. The wheels in his small, adrenaline numbed brain seem to move. His gaze wanders, to Engineer, to Pyro. To the Sentry, to the Dispenser. Then back to Engineer.  
  
“What do you maggots think this is? A tea party?” He is up on his feet again, his rocketlauncher strapped over his back so he can roll one hand in a fist, and the other point at both of them. “Pyro, I need you down there. Go, maggot!”  
“Mhhph?” Pyro cocks his head. “You heard me, sheila! Get your sorry ass down there and help us capture!”  
Pyro answers by setting his flamethrower on. The flames engulf the man's body, licking on his clothes an skin, but never did they set him ablaze. Both Pyro and Engineer were quite surprised to find that this was, indeed their own Soldier. Soldier stares down at the few last flames that his clothes did catch and watch them die in the cold wind; he's silent for a while, dumbfounded, indignant---  
  
“YOU DARE THINKING I'M A SPY?” he yells, shoving the flamethrower away from his face. “You set everyone on your team on fire, but you can't catch an actual Spy? You are dismissed, smoky joe!”  
“Wait, Sal- Pyro did an excellent job.” he defended his friend. “Ah've been safer around him than with any of ya –”  
“He couldn't even catch one spy!” Soldier growls. This really was not the time to discuss that, especially not when the Administrator was again counting down. “Look, ya can't take him away now, ah need someone spy-checkin'!”  
“I will take care of this!” Soldier pushes Pyro away from his spot next to the sentry and shoves him away from Engineer. “Hhu?” Pyro is utterly confused he was replaced so suddenly – by Soldier, out of all people. “Now go, son! Go!”  
  
“Wa-wa---Wait, Soldier, ya can't jus'--”  
“THIS IS _MY_ TEAM AND YOU _WILL_ FOLLOW MY ORDERS!”  
“Sal, look, ya can't spy check, that ain't your profession--”  
“Killing spies IS my profession. And if it's not, IT WILL BE NOW!”  
  
Soldier moves his rocketlauncher back on his shoulder. “Dismissed!”  
Pyro looks at Engineer, and Engineer shrugs helplessly. Seems like Soldier wouldn't be ready to change his mind so quickly. With a muffled grumble, the firestarter turned around and headed into battle.  
“Boy, a shoulda oughta beat ya like a rented mule!” Engineer growls at the rocketman.  
“You can thank me later, professor.” Soldier mutters.  
“Thank ya? For what? Ya leavin' ya team at their own and send Pyro away ta take _your_ job? Sal, what's the matter with ya?”  
“My orders are my own business, and you will follow them without questioning, is that clear?”  
  
That was ridiculous. Soldier knew, he _knew_ that he was needed in the offense, not defense like he claims. And Pyro had always been at the texans side, only occasionally helping out after he was sure he had killed the Spy and his deathringer doppelganger. So why now?   
Engineer watches as Pyro goes off, blasting away rockets and bombs and whenever he is shortly about to get attacked, he quickly sprints back to the dispenser to where other teammates have fled to, pressed their backs against the metal and wait until they are read to go again. But Pyro doesn't make it that far. The counter drops to zero again, and the carwrack crashes into the train with a loud kaboom, launching shrapnel of glass and metal into all directions, Pyro get's impaled by the tailgate of the car that crashed off at the impact, shortly before he can reach the dispenser.   
“Christ...!” Engie breathes.  
“Pah, he get's up in less than ten seconds!” Soldier waved a dismissle with his hand. Pumped with adrenaline and bubbling anger, he can't stop his hand before it wracks down on Soldier's cheek. 

“Ya sonuvabitch!” he howls. Soldier stares at him in utter astonishment at that back-hand.  
“ Ya send the poor kid into battle and see what happened! Are ya happy now ?”  
Soldier still stares at him like he was facing George Washington himself. Did he... did he just dare to punch him? He shakes himself out of his baffled rigidity, shoulders squared, jaw clenching. Engineer knows that trying to talk Soldier out of his behavior with moral was impossible. Orders however was something he would understand. Although he really doesn't have the time and nerves, Engineer stomps on the floor and points at the battlefield.  
  
“Soldier, go and _capture!_ ”  
“Negatory!” Soldier roars.  
“That is a darn-gosh-dagnabbit order, Sal!”  
“YOU CANNOT DISTRIBUTE ORDERS, THAT IS _MY_ JOB!”  
“Ya getting' us both killed, ya dumbass!”  
  
But he never had the chance to speak. With a yelp, he sees Engineer suddenly throwing himself into the snowbank as a rain of bombs crashes into his setup. “Mah sentry!” Engineer whined as one of the bombs detonated and blew off the missilelauncher on top. The RED Demo guffawed in schadenfreude. Before he could check on Soldier, if he was still alive or injured from the bombs that detonated all around them, he saw a shadow launching into the air and blowing rockets at the surprised demoman, after a short fight with broken bottle and shovel, the scotsman slumped lifeless to the floor. Well, engineer thought. Pyro wouldn't probably have been able to block that attack. Sure, Soldier in defense was probably a bad idea, but...maybe not as useless as Engineer had thought. Soldier returns and holds out a hand to the fallen mechanic.  
“Get up, sissy!” he growls, and Engineer clings to his calloused hand covered in Demo's blood, pulling himself back up on his feet  
Soldier keeps an eye on every movement, or so it seems. Sometimes he shoots rockets into the mess of BLU and RED's and growls and yells and whenever Engineer thought he had given up on 'spychecking' and grew bored of sitting next to his sentry that only occasionally caught someone and struck them down, he would return with a rocketjump, landing right next to Engie.  
  
No matter how many they struck down however and no matter how good Soldier was at his new job at taking spies down, it didn't bring them any further. They lost time too quickly it seemed, the car continued to crash down onto the bomb every thirty seconds and by the looks of it, it was definitely close to either detonate on itself, or completely impractical for any usage anymore. RED's Heavy and Medic übered and moved down whatever BLU's dared to enter the controlpoint area, the RED engineer had set up the sentry on top of the roof of the ruins of the sentinel, RED Demo and RED Soldier pushed their counterparts away from their point.  
“Dagnabbit!” Engineer hisses as he watches the fiasco down the hill, the counter at the respawn and information panel next to the metallic doors. The bomb was left by only thirty percent, he figures out in shock. They had less than two minutes left to capture, or neither the train, the cargo or his entire team would witness another day. Or, well, BLU would. But they would be send back home at instant. “Hrrrm.” Engineer growls, moves to his dispenser, picks up more spare metal. Soldier seems oddly calm, despite their imminent failure. Even with the helmet on top, he noticed the military man continuously staring at the team fighting, and back to engineer, pulling up his lips in a scowl, and repeat this action once he made sure the area was secured. What in heaven's name was riding Soldier to stay here, where there was no one to kill, no one to fight, like Soldier loved to? Soldier only fought for the sake of killing! He was an insane bloodthirsty killingmachine – so what was he doing here, defending? A thought crossed his mind, but it seemed preposterous, even in his mind which was open to every idea.  
  
Maybe he had watched Engineer praising Pyro for his good work, and hoped for the same now when he took over the job? So far, Soldier hadn't even hit any Spy or contributed to their victory. Speaking about the spook however, Engineer swallowed. He hadn't noticed him for a while now. He hadn't made any attempts to approach them or any other on the battlefield either – or maybe he simply hadn't noticed. “No spy around...” Engineer mutters. “Ain't that a miracle.”  
“He's clever enough to not try any spook-business with me around.” Soldier murmurs back. And Engineer feels like the veteran is fishing for a compliment right there. He's not falling for it though. He has better things to do that feeding his ego for sending Pyro away and taking in his job, and risking their team to loose. While he continued to upgrade and fix his sentry and dispenser, his glance falls between the Soldier and the controlpoint. Soldier suddenly stirs. “Controlpoint unprotected!” he chants, and then starts moving. But before he has his rocketlauncher holstered back in favor of his shotgun, he sees a zing rushing past him. It's blue and yellow and at least a head smaller than him and it definitely doesn't look like Scout, since the boy had landed in respawn. Soldier looks between the sentry and the controlpoint. Engie is gone. No, not gone – he's running with only his pistol into the controlarea.  
  
“Engie, no!” Soldier calls. Engineer was weak, he knew that. He was after all training him so he wouldn't die all the time. The moment in which enough RED's have died to leave the area unprotected was temporary, and god knows what happens if they find out their controlpoint is being taken at this moment.  
“Engie, come back!” Soldier runs after the mechanic. “We gotta cap, Sal!” Engineer calls, running as fast as his shoes can carry him through ten inches of snow. Soldier follows, but he isn't nearly as fast as him, even without the rocketlauncher. Engineer tumbles down the snowbench, over the rails and towards the controlpoint. He hears the doors of their respawn opening, and Scout loudly proclaiming that he hates Heavy's. Engineer reaches the platform. The Administrator loudly proclaims over the speakers into the RED's respawn that their last controlpoint is being captured. Engineer stares at the counter.  
  
“C'mon, c'mon...” he mutters. One person capturing is taking a whole lot of time, his eyes dart out to Soldier who is still trying to follow up with his 1 kilometer per hour pace. Scout is catching up too, or at least he tries, as he jumps over their heads and towards the respawn, yelling something about 'killing the fat bald bastard again'.  
“Engineer, you get off that point this instant!” Soldier growls, trips, rolls through the snow and lands with a thud on the floor.  
“Jus' ten more seconds, Sal, help me!”  
“You are not obligated to capture!!” Soldier yells now, furious, as he gets back on his feet and brushes off the snow. “If you know whats good for you, you get your sorry ass back behind your goddamn machinery!”  
Engineer ignored him.  
_“THAT IS AN ORDER!”_  
  
Soldier nearly reaches the controlpoint, with his shovel tightly in his grip. Then his feet failed him with a wave of icecold shock running down his spine. Behind the texan, a figure materialized, arm raised, a shining blade in his hand and a shit-eating grin sprawled over the masked face. “Spy!!” Soldier yells. The sentrygun bleeps frantically. Engineer just has enough time to cast a confused gaze at the military man and begin to wheel around as an icecold, zinging pain rushes from his back into his body. The blade sinks through skin and muscles and flesh, grazes bones and cartilages, and penetrates his lung. Engineer cries out, every power sucked from his body as he slumps down. He sees and feels nothing. Didn't see the moment he collapses on the hard cold metallic platform, didn't see this sentrygun perforate the Spy that has barely any time to cloak back into invisibility. He doesn't see or feel Soldier slumping to his knees and gripping his shoulders, shaking him, propping him up, calling for medic. He knows it's him. He smells gunpowder and sweat, he feels the fabric of his blue coat grazing his cheek. “Don't you die on me, you goddamn scum!” Soldier rumbles. Blood fill his lungs. Breathing hurt. Speaking hurt. Moving his hand that grips on Soldier's shoulder hurts. A calloused, oddly warm hand tilts his head up to look into his eyes beneath the helmet. He sees the man talking to him, his lips moved, but he hears nothing. He doesn't hear the Administrator announcing their victory, and doesn't see the train breaking through the last barricade, doesn't witness the bomb being carried through a narrowed dark tunnel, and seconds later, a loud explosion rattles through the air and shakes the floor and Soldier flinches and holds Engineer a little tighter. He doesn't notice it though. He's dead. 

 


	4. Misconceiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Very gay and weird NSFW ahead.

“Sniper, noo!” Medic rebuked. “Feet off zhe table! Ve vant to keep zhis place clean, it's not ours after all – and stop drilling your knife into zhe surface!”  
Sniper snarled darkly under his breath, but unceremoniously removes his legs from the desk and places the knife he had spun around in place back on the surface.  
Spy doesn't. Medic hadn't had the time to put him into place as well, while he was helping everyone to move their luggage and utensils into their new base.  
“Pyro, please put zhe cutlery into zhe Schublade, eh...drawers, ja? Scout put zhe laundry into zhe washrooms.”  
“Oh, c'mon, why me?”  
Medic ignored him and moved on.  
  
“Demo, be a sveetheart and help Heavy vith bedmaking. I'm not sure he can get it done on his own vith...vell, he has large hands.” The german quickly set the birdcage between Spy and Sniper on the table and opened the door to let his feathery friend outside of his ten hour prison. “Oh, I'm so sorry, mein kleiner Archimedes, did zhe journey bore you much? Did you miss daddy much?”  
The bird gently bobbed up and down on the doctors finger, and then proceeded to jump on the familiar man's shoulder and rub its soft little head against his cheekbone. Medic tut-tutted and cooed at his beloved bird. Scout rolled his eyes and made a fake gagging sound, Sniper grinned back.  
“Daddy promises he vill put you next to him in zhe train vhen ve drive home.”  
“Ees bird okay?” Heavy asks. He knows how much the pigeons mean to the german. They were his anchor, his most beloved ones. If something would happen to them, to his precious pets, especially Archimedes, that's it, he'd be done. Not even a medigun would fix that hole in his heart then.  
Medic chuckles softly. “Ja, ja, just a little clingy, it seems. I don't blame him. He's had a long time sitting still in zhe back of zhe train.”  
“Must have bored bird very much.” Heavy concluded.  
  
But preparations doesn't leave much time for Medic to comfort his dove, he sees as Pyro sets each cutlery neatly on fire, before placing it in the drawers.  
“Pyro, noo!” Medic whined and quickly disposed the mess the firebug started in the kitchen. There had been barely any time for any of the teams to settle into the new bases. They were smaller, only half as big as their headquarters back in new mexico. They had a tiny kitchen, and one simple table that worked for dinner, battle preparations and poker. And judging by the mess each pokernight bequeaths, it wouldn't surprise him if they would find pokerchips in their food. But the probably biggest problem wasn't the small environment, or the fact that this little facility was definitely not made for nine fully grown men.  
  
They had, in fact, two problems.  
  
First one was the bathroom. It was one. One bathroom, with one shower. And after their more or less successful mission, everyone just hoped for a nice relaxing shower to brush off the sweat and blood from their exhausted bodies. It was an utter mess, deciding who was allowed to go first and who the last. And who was more willing to shower with all the warm water already gone. And Engineer needed a hot shower. His last respawn felt like a terrible hangover he woke up to.  
  
The second problem was the sleep domiciles. The rooms were tiny. And as far as the mercenaries could judge as they opened the doors, none of them was heated. Why in heavens name would someone build a base in the middle of nowhere, in a land of snow and ice and maple syrup, and then forget to heat the place properly? Not only that, but seeing as the rooms had two to three beds inside, it was certain that they had to split and share rooms.  
It certainly was no problem for Medic and Heavy, they would certainly share a room. And Engineer had hoped to be the lucky one to share his room with pyro, so he could keep them warm. But for Scout and Spy and Sniper, it was a nightmare. All three appreciated their minimal privacy they still had, living with the rest of the team. And the idea of sharing it with a crazed war veteran or drunken scotsman was certainly too much.  
  
“Let's draw lots.” Sniper suggested, wrote their names on cards and shuffled them inside his hat. And was in fact the first and lucky one to draw Pyro as his roommate. The firebug giggled happily, and dragged Sniper by his hand instantly towards the next door, locked it and what happened after that was a bloody enigma.  
Spy drew Demo.  
“Ay, ow'laddy!” Demo slurred and swung his arm around the tender frame of the french. Spy felt like crying. But it came worse as Scout drew Spy's name, and thus was going to occupy the only room with three beds inside.  
This was hell, they thought, simultaneously.  
  
Engineer wasn't very happy with his drawn either. He had Heavy. And Medic even made a liberate “Ach!” sound as he drew Soldier.  
Heavy stares at Engineer's card, rumbles a low “Hm”-sound. “Dis should vork.” he says then. Engineer plays with the idea of asking Medic to switch their roommates, judging by his “help-me-i'm-dying-here”-gaze he throws at the tinkerer, but Heavy is fine with it, Heavy likes his new freshly announced roommate, and as long as Heavy is okay with the situation, everyone around him was obligated to agree with him. He grabbed his huge suitcase and threw it in the last room far at the end of the corridor, claiming it as theirs before anybody else could.  
  
“Ve sleep here.” he says gruffly.  
  
“Err...as ya wish, pardner.” Engineer says meekly, and followed Heavy's example in preparing their beds for the night.  
  
It's dark outside already, and it's finally Engineers turn to shower. The water is low-warm, luckily pyro had showered before him and probably heated up the cold water for his taste. He feels freshened up, but utterly exhausted; and remembering he was spending a night with a man he had more respect towards than any of the team members - which meant quite a lot for the man who befriended Soldier – he felt even more exasperated. And god, that darn scar on his back was stinging. Usually, the scars would have either faded by now or healed. This one was nasty though. It was barely closed, and blood oozed from it sometimes when Engineer made a wrong movement with his arm. He had asked Medic to heal it, and yet it still hurt. Hopefully, Engineer deliberates while putting on his shirt and slipping into much more comfortable pants, it wouldn't get infected. Or had Spy coated the blade with so kind of poison that decelerates the healing process? Spy were unpredictable mother hubbards, able to anything – but manipulated weaponry that was not confirmed by the Administrator or Saxton Hale himself was prohibited.  
  
He could pay with death even so, if he would try. The shuffles of heavy boots and the sudden white-coated wall in front of Engineer's eyes after exiting the bathroom caught him off guard and out of his thoughts. He looked up and sees the helmeted face stare down at him with his earmarking scowl. “Good night irene! Sal. Ya gotta stop sneakin' up on me like that.” Engineer puffed. “This old fella's heart ain't the fittest anymore.”  
“You left some warm water? Or did you take too long shaving your legs, sissy?”  
Soldier had a towel draped over his neck and the blue blood-soaked coat was gone from his shoulders. The helmet stayed.  
  
“Ah, ya can ask Pyro ta heat it up for ya.” he suggested. Upon hearing the firebugs name, Soldier seemed to quickly re-think the idea of choosing the cold water rather than getting into his way.  
“Pah, you coddled sissy girls are all the same. Uhh, the water's too cold. Uhh, the water's too hot.” here, Soldier had changed his raspy gruff voice into a mockingly high-pitched girly tone, as he teetered past Engineer. “A real man takes what he gets. And if I am left with nothing but iceblocks to clean myself, then I WILL take them, and I will LIKE it!”  
“Well, ya can ask medic ta defrost ya up them when ya done with ice-dippin' . Ya gonna share a room with him.”  
Upon that, Soldier seemed to die in his tracks.  
  
“Do what now?” Soldier asked confused, standing in front of the bathroom door.  
“Well...we drew lots on who's gonna share rooms. Medic drew you. You gonna share a room.”  
It seemed Soldier had been too busy with rubbing his boots clean than actually paying attention to the room-distribution. Soldier's already earnest expressions darkened. “I'm not going to share a room with that kraut.” he says.  
“And why is that?”  
"I'm american."  
"And?"  
“This is America, and I am going to share a room with an american!”  
“Soldier, first'o'all – we're in Alaska. Second; it's either Medic, or sleepin' outside in the snow.”  
“I am going to sleep on the north- and south pole myself, and on my very own free will before I'm going to sleep in the presence of this commie sucker.”  
Engineer really didn't want to know what Soldier meant with that last nickname.  
“Do you even know what nazis do with you? Especially THAT nazi?”  
“Soldier...”  
“He's gonna insert some fascist-serum into my veins when I'm asleep that's gonna turn me into a goddamn queer that loves beer and oktoberfest, and then what? I'm going to run around in leatherpants and swastikas sticking to my clothes?”  
“Soldier...”  
“No Sir, over my cold dead body. I am an american in a free country and I am going to share my room with a red-blooded all american fellow.” Upon this, Soldier loops his arm around Engineer's shoulder and jerks him close against his side. He wasn't actually suggesting---?  
“Ya do realize that Scout's already assigned to a room, yeah?”  
“Who says I was talking about that beanpole, tex?”  
  
Oh. Of course. “Well, Sal, if ya suggestion ya gonna switch me with Medic – ah'm not so sure if Heavy's gonna be happy about that?”  
“And why not? He gets his 'Herr Doktor' to plan communistic world-domination plans, and I get you.”  
“Because ah already tried to talk it outta him, and he ain't to fond of sudden changes in his plans, ya know?”  
“Oh really? Hah! Stars and stripes are gonna beat hammer and chisel! Taking you for hostage? I'd like to see him try.”  
“Gosh, why ya so obsessed with getting' into mah business like that, rocket-boy? First at the mission today, when ya sent Pyro away and barely made us lose that one, and now this?”  
  
Not that it really bothered Engineer, but sharing a room in a train was certainly different than sharing a room to sleep together.  
“Pyro is weak! Have you seen that joke of a soldier? He hasn't had caught one Spy! Not a single one! That boy wouldn't see a spy if he was standing right behind him.”  
Before. It's called 'right before him'. And how should Pyro see them behind him anyway? Did he have eyes on his ass? He hoped not so, but honestly, he didn't even know if Pyro was human after all.  
“I had to do the job and wrack that goddamn crouton into pieces while Smokey Joe kept on dying from some wussy shrapnel rain. HAH! I'd say, he has grown old of his position next to your sentry. That kid needs to feel the real war. He needs to fight, like men do! Like I do! From now on, I'm going to take over his task and secure your sentry, and he's going to take over my place. A certain honor, if I do say so myself. There aren't many people I would trust to fulfill my part.”  
Suddenly, his brain had a little click-moment. Engineer would have laughed, if it wasn't ridiculous enough thinking such about a man like him. Like Soldier. But it all added up. It all added up perfectly and Engineers lips curled into a leer at the realization.  
  
“Say, Sal...if ah wouldn't know it any better, I'd almost say ya jealous?”  
  
Soldier froze once again. His posture stiffens like he just heard the utterly worst insult towards america a human being could say into his face. He turns his head to look over his shoulders. It takes a second or two, before Soldier gathers himself. Bingo.  
  
“Negatory.” he says then.  
  
“Oh, ya sure about that?” - “Affirmative.”  
  
“Affirmative my foot, Sal.”  
  
“Jealous.” he repeats, slowly turning towards the mechanic. “ You really think I'm jealous ?”  
“Yep.” Engineer's grin widens. “Ah'm pretty sure ya damn piss-jealous ah'm spendin' more time with Pyro and praise him a damn lot. That's why ya dismissed him. Ya wanted me ta laud ya like ah'm laudin' Pyro, all along, now didn't ya?”  
“I gotta hand it to you, professor – you've got some big mouth for someone hiding behind his little toys all day.”  
“And ah'm pretty sure ya wouldn't want Heavy ta have me all for himself, yeah? Ah, ah'm pretty sure ya jealous a'right. Ya eyes are all green of jealousy.”  
_“I NEITHER NEED YOUR STUPID HIPPY-PRAISES NOR DO I CARE IF YOU SPEND THAT NIGHT IN THE PRESENCE OF THAT ROTTEN COMMI!”_ Soldier bellows through the hallway. It's a testament of Engineer obvious transcendence that Engineer doesn't even flinch at the deafening volume. Soldier's face is flushed, either from embarrassment or from the strength it took him to roar that loud and not even being rewarded with a shriek, a cringe or an expression of fear.  
  
No, Engineer just stands there and smirks. After a few more moments, Soldier straightens his posture again. “I was hoping for at least a word of your appreciation I saved your wussy sentry equipment from instantly getting shattered, or for warning you when you were attacked by the spy. But I see I am only rewarded with mockery. You wanna play this way, grease monkey? Then let's play this way.” Soldier pushes Engineer out of his way and marches down the hallway.  
  
“I will sleep with that Kraut Maggot, and if it's the last thing I'm going to do! You will see, you greasy fruitpie! Me, jealous? HAH! And besides - My eyes are _BLUE_!!”  
Sniper and Spy who happened to be in the very next room smoking cigarettes and reading their boring fashion and weaponry magazines heard said hollered words from the commando and shared a short glance, back at the door where the Soldier vanished, and back to each other.  
  
“Did he jus'---?” Sniper frowned.  
  
“Honhon, seems like se Medic is going to take a walk on se wild side tonight.” Spy smirked back at the aussie.   
  
“Oi'm not even gonna troy te imagine it.” Sniper grimaced, and drowned a gag with a sip from his coffee.

 

 

It's late at night and Engineer can't sleep. No, it's not only because Heavy is sleeping in the bed next to him and snoring like a walrus. It's also the fact that the bed he is lying inside is too small and the springs wheeze and creak under his weight whenever he draws a breath. And, especially the fact that Heavy had taken Engineer's blanket without even so bothering to ask beforehand, just so Sasha had it warm in the night. Yes, indeed. Heavy had his machine gun placed next to his bed, with Engineer's blanket draped over it to keep it warm. Said warmth that was reserved for the tinkerer. He didn't dare to remove it. Heavy was a light sleeper. And if he would find out Engineer takes the comfort from his gun away in order to warm himself, it might be his last wrong decision.  
  
“Ya chucklenuts better pull on sum' two pairs'a'socks.” Scout had proclaimed after watching the news on the tiny television. “ 'tis getting' fresh outside. 4 degrees maximum.”  
“And minimum?” Sniper asked, a blanket draped over two layers of pullovers he already wore.  
“Sumthin' 'round minus ten? I dunno, am I the weatherman?” Scout shrugged, and then proceeded to heat up on Pyro's warming flamethrower.  
  
Engineer felt them. Oh, did he feel those minus ten degrees. He wore at least three layers of clothes and was still shaking and freezing that kept him wide awake. And even if he would feel at least a little warmer, he wouldn't find any rest with Heavy's voice cords vibrating like the engine of a chainsaw. Engineer tried. He tried falling asleep, tried forcing himself to close his eyes and endure it. C'mon, Conagher, you have had worse situations you fell asleep in, he reminds himself. This is a piece of cake. But his body is restless. His mind is restless. He looks over to the watch and tries to make out the time in the darkness, illuminated by nothing but the lights of the moon. It's 2 am something. He groans, flops back into his bed, and even that seemed to rattle Heavy temporarily out of his slumber. He snorts, murmured something in russian and then continued to sleep soundly with his arm draped over his gun that was still wrapped in the blanket that was originally supposed to be his only way of finding peaceful sleep. It doesn't work though.  
How in heaven's name does Medic live with that noise? They weren't always spending nights at each others domiciles, but most of the time, they did share rooms however, and he is by far the only person that doesn't call Heavy out on his thunderous voice in the night when they meet at breakfast, he looks rather relaxed, happy, fresh and well-rested. Why don't I just go and simply ask Medic if he wants to switch now, Engineer thought. Medic didn't want to be around Soldier anyway, and since he knows Soldier would have a spare blanket and probably didn't snore as loud as Heavy does, it would be the best way, wouldn't it?  
It's hard for him with the little bit of coziness the bed still effected on him, but he forces himself out of his bed with the least amount of sound the creaking springs of his bed can hold, and then tip-toes to the door. He opens it only a tad wide and slips out and into the bright corridor. To his surprise, he finds Medic, clutching his pillow to his chest and glasses in his hand, closing the door to his own domicile. They recognize each other, after Medic puts his glasses back on.  
  
“Uh...guten abend, Herr Engineer.”  
“ 'Tis a bit late ta run around the base on ya own, ain't it, doc?” Engineer offers a weak smile. He can surely imagine why Medic had fled his bed.  
“Ach...Soldier is simply not falling asleep. He keeps telling me he isn't going to fall asleep before I do. And even if I do, he vill stay avake so I von't inject...some...oh, I don't know.” Medic rubs his temples. “Fascist-serum?” Engineer asks. “Ja, genau.” Medic rolls his eyes. He is used to being called this old-fashioned stereotypical name by now, but he really just wanted to sleep for gods sake, and not listen to all the things his people had done wrong over the course of the last few ten years. Most of them weren't even his fault. “And he keeps trying to catch poor Archimedes.” As if on command, the dove peeked his head over the medic's shoulder. “He has done nozhing to deserve zhis. Now did you my little sunshine? Nein, you didn't, no no~” Medic cooed and rubbed his cheek against the birds head. Engineer arched an eyebrow. “Err, y'know, Soldier ain't too fond of birds. He's scared of 'em.”  
“Ach, nobody needs to be afraid of my little Archimedes.” Medic chuckled. “And...vhat about you? Vhat keeps you up?”  
  
“Ah...well...Heavy's got some mighty strong lungs...”  
  
“Oh, yes, yes I see.” Medic grinned. “Ja, it's true, he is a very loud sleeper. And...I assume he took your blanket avay too?”  
  
“How did'cha know?”  
  
“Sasha. Ach, he vants his good, little gun to rest just as good as he does. Mh-hmm...I vas vondering vhen you vould cave in.”  
  
They shared a short chuckle, and after only seconds, they had decided to switch beds for the night, without even so hesitating. Medic vanished in the cave of the sleeping bear and Engineer carefully strode down the hallway towards the Soldier's room, Compared to Heavy's, Soldier had left on the little lamp on the table. And, compared to Heavy, Soldier was wide awake. A shotgun clutched to his chest, he sits on his bed and seems to be alert and ready in case one of the fluttering white bird monsters would dare to cross his path. His head his tilted upwards, his helmet sways with every jerk of his neck; of course, until he noticed Engineer entering.  
  
“HALT!” he calls, shotgun raised into his direction. Engineer flinches and presses his finger to his lips.  
“Shh! Quiet, ya motherhubbin'---!” he hisses.  
“FRIEND OR FOE?”  
  
“Dagnabbit, Sal!” Engineer swiftly closes the door behind him, just so the rest of the team wouldn't wake up from the booming in Soldier's voice.“The whole base is sleepin', ya dumbass! Quit that shoutin', will ya--?” Soldier still holds the gun up to his face. “Prove that you're not a spy, you french barguette -inhaler!” Engineer stammers a few confused syllables, but then sighs.  
  
“America is the greatest, america is the best. Praise America, I hate Paris and slugs and I'm not a crouton.” Engineer mutters in the most lackadaisical voice he can muster.  
Soldier grunts. “Spoken like a true patriot.” he says, and rests the gun on the bed and cocks his head to the side. “What are you doing here?” he asks. “And where did Eva Braun go?”  
“Ya shunned him away, Sal. He rather wants ta sleep with Heavy than you.”  
  
“He just can't handle true patriotism around him!” Soldier crosses his arms in front of his chest. Engineer ignored him and rather took in the surroundings. It seemed both shambolic and rigidly perfectly ordered. On one side, clothes were scattered on the floor in a hurry and weaponry lied unheeded on the floor. On the other side, clothes were neatly folded and placed on the table and stacked in the wardrobe that both men had to share, It was like chaos collided with tidiness and it was hard to perceive who was responsible for which. The room was literally filled with either american flags Soldier had insisted on carrying with him and marked the room as his,and several utensils he still remembered from Medic's office. Jars of red glowing liquid which he assumed was medi-fluid. Several glasses of tranquilizer, a golden cage big enough to fit an owl inside, feathers drenched in dried blood scattered all over the table and floor. For a brief moment he wonders if Soldier had done something to the poor animal, but knowing Soldier as a huge animal-friend himself, he figured he wouldn't hurt the poor dove, would he?  
  
“I don't like that bird.” Soldier commented as Engineer stared at the red sprinkled fuzzes. “It keeps staring at me like that.”  
“Worry none, Soldier-boy. Medic took him over to Heavy's.”  
“That's good, very good, otherwise I would have taken that little rat with wings and plucked every feather, one by one, off of that filthy ---”  
  
“Soldier, did you drink one of the medi-fluids?” Engineer noticed two empty jar next to the soldiers bed. Now that he noticed, it seemed like Soldier's skin had become a little more rosy, he was almost glowing from the inside, about where his stomach would be. The  
  
“Security control, hardhat! It could have been poison. Or, the Nazi-serum I told you about.”  
“Dagnabbit Soldier, these weren't for _you_!” Engineer groans and rubs his forehead.  
  
“This is America and I am free to take what ever I like!” he defended himself, his skin glowing a little brighter. “Besides, it tasted like honey! It could have been honey as well! How should I have known?”  
“Boy, first of all – Honey ain't red. And it ain't glowin' in the dark, now does it? And Second –“ he stopped his explanation as leaden tiredness slumped down onto him and he remembered why he had come here in the first place. He could just imagine what drove Medic to flee from him. Nobody seemed to endure the madness that radiated off of him. Except him, perhaps.  
“Well, ah suppose ya ain't gonna count on Medic healin' ya then tomorrow.”  
“What do you mean he is not going to heal me? He will provide me with medical attention until he's becoming tired of it!!” Soldier growls and watches as Engineer slumps into the warm spot Medic has left on the spare-bed. Its still freezing cold, even in here.  
  
But at least, he has a blanket now. With a blissful sigh, Engineer wraps himself into the blanket and closes his eyes. The light on the table is irritating, but he doesn't say anything about it. He's tired. He's cold. And he just wants to sleep. He is enthusiastic about Soldier not starting to bother him with what his culture has done wrong. America hadn't done anything wrong in Soldiers eyes after all.  
“What do you think you're doing, maggot?” Soldier hisses nevertheless. “This is Medic's bed! Your have your OWN bed!” Engineer's one eye pop open. He focuses on the helmeted man on the cot a few inches away from his.  
“Didn'tcha listen ta what ah jus' said?” he mutters. “Medic's at Heavy now. He lets me stay here.”  
He hopes that ends the discussion, but it doesn't.  
“So the coward has ultimatively retreated, yes? Hah, I should have known - instead of facing his mistakes he runs away from them and blubbers on Heavy's shoulder, huh? That coddled panty-wearing _wuss_ , he and all his kin.”  
“Sal...”  
“A true man never backs off, even in the face of reality. If I would have---”

“Sal.” Engineer says. His voice is demanding, soft, but it had enough sharpness recognizable for Soldier that one more word about whatever he was rambling about and he would witness texas' ugly side. And he knew too well that he didn't want to witness that. Not again at least. Soldier closes his mouth. He doesn't apologize though, doesn't try to raise the topic again when he is sure Engineer has let his guards down.

“Jus' go ta sleep, Sal. We've got a long day tomorrow, hm? Wouldn't want'cha ta fall asleep on me guardin' mah sentry.” Engineer murmurs. Perhaps assuring Soldier that his place at the sentry was saved for him would lull him into relaxation; of course he'd had to explain pyro why he wouldn't be allowed to stride along with him the next mission but he supposed he would understand; or at least he hoped so, Pyro was rather unforgiving. It worked though, Soldier placed the tattered copy of _Art of War_ by Sun Tzu and shotgun on the floor, and did as the tinkerer did, switching off the little light on the table and nestle his body into the sheets. The room finally fills with silence.  
And in the silence, Engineer thinks.

First its just some petty topics, what he's going to wear tomorrow, what the mission will bring them. He heard tomorrows battefield was an old factory behind the mountain they faced from their cab. He thanked the lord silently that for once, they wouldn't have to face snow and ice. What would await them? And where to put his sentry up – and would Soldier stay at his side again and defend with him? Engineer turns around to face Soldier lying on the other side of the room. Should he dare to thank him? Thank him for helping him today? For killing the spy before he could do any more damage to him or others? All Soldier really wanted was a simple 'good job', spoken by him in particular. A pat on the shoulder. Or, a smile. Engineer often smiles as Soldier. Whether he notices it or not. He often pats Soldier on the arm or shoulder or whatever part of him was in reach and didn't extract any awkwardness between them. But when was it the last time Engineer had praised him for something he had done , something he had archived, accomplished? He did, inwardly. For most of the time, he knows that Soldier is aware that what he does is efficient and played well. But maybe it's nevertheless something Soldier desperately wanted to hear? Maybe that is why he sticks around him the most? Because, out of all mercenaries, he certainly is the only one showering his teammates with compliments. All, except for Soldier. He feels guilty all of the sudden. He regrets he hasn't said anything much earlier.  
  
The rooms is silent and Engineer falls asleep eventually. Not for long however, as he wakes up and feels cold. He checks if the blanket is still on his body and finds himself clutching it to his chest with his teeth clattering involuntarily. For gods sake, he growls. He wears two shirts and a goddamn blanket and is still freezing! Soldier only wears a thin undershirt and doesn't complain. His gaze falls to the man on the other side of the room. He hasn't budged from his spot in which he fell asleep in. His back was faced towards him, the blanket rose and fell with each steady breath he takes, shoulders relaxed but all in all, he appears alert nevertheless. Another wave of shudders shakes the Engineer.  
God, how he hated missions in the cold areas. Barnblitz. Coldfront. Viaduct. They were a goddamn nightmare, especially when their domiciles were tiny and abandoned and reeked of ratpiss. And when it was freezing outside far down the minus degrees. Engineer groans softly, blowing hot air into his hands and rubbing them together. He doesn't want to look at the watch, doesn't want to know what time it is and how long he slept and how much more he was going to endure of this icy nightmare before his alarm goes off. He then hears a shuffle of sheets across the room.  
  
“Are you cold?” Soldier asks. Engineer raises his head. “Ah...sorry hoss, did ah wake ya up?”  
“I asked you a question first:” Soldier is wide awake, and his eyebrows are furrowed. In the dimmed moonlight, he sees the harsh contours of his angular face that stares at him skeptically.  
“Are you cold?” he repeats. Engineer hunches his shoulder. “Ah well, ain't that well heated in here, eh?”  
He is curious of what Soldier is planning on doing to defy his roommates problem. But what he had planned then was far out of Engineer's comfort zone. Soldier moves out of his bed and grabs his blanket. He drapes it over Engineer's trembling body, before returning without any garment to his bed. “Now sleep.”  
  
“Wa---Now hold on there , mister.” Engineer stares at the second set of cover over his body and feels heat seeping into his bones again. But he can't take it, no he can't let himself have some warm rest while Soldier would freeze throughout the night, and probably go hypothermic. It was a miracle how he survived it until now with only a minimal set of clothes on his body. “Ya can't jus' gimme your blanket. What about you?”  
“The weather has no control over me or my body.” Soldier grunts raucously. He swivels his body. “Sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”  
Engineer doesn't feel all too happy even though warmth surrounded him comfortingly, with Soldier left in only his pajamas. Nevertheless he rests back into the sheets. But only after a few more minutes, he sees the man shuddering slightly, even though he tries to repress it by draping his arms around his form. Engineer clicks his tongue.  
  
“In tarnation's name.” he mutters, grabs the blankets and moves over to Soldier's bedside. He cocoons the veteran and himself in the barely heated covers. It's a bold move and hell, if he wasn't so damn tired, he would have tried to find an alternative way, but he just wanted to rest now, just wanted Soldier to be warm as well even if it means he would press his body against the commando's chest. Soldier moves his head to face the man in agonizingly slowness.  
  
“You better explain me what you think you're doing before I snap your goddamn neck.”  
  
“ Well, y'see…in times of great duress, sometimes it makes sense to,…err, 'share warmth'."  
  
Soldier's mind was simple and very slowly most of the time, but that he did understand instantly.  
“You are suggesting to _cuddle_ ?” he asks, taken aback.  
  
“Heat out here’s gonna leave yer body much faster than say, son.” Engineer is trying to appeal to the man's sense of reason, if he even had one. “And the last thing we need is ta find ya in the mornin' with pneumonia.”  
“I am NOT going to cuddle with you, you greasy fruitbasket!” Soldier moves away from Engineer. “This is _MY_ Bed. You have your own. And you better return to yours this instant before I push you into your own grave.”  
“Stubborn like a rented mule, ain'tcha, Soldier-boy.” he mutters. He snatches the Soldier by his hip and draws him in again, his arm draping around the man's large body and closing the gap between their bodies.  
  
“Let go!” Soldier growls. “Nope.” Engineer hums.  
“That is an order!!” - “Nope” - “If you know what's---!” Soldier's voice died the moment he feels warmth flood his system again by the heat of the blankets and Engineer's body draped over his chest. He can't help but feel...comforted. Relaxed. It's the unmanliest thing to do, even if the situation called for it, and nevertheless it felt like it promised security. Security of what? And from who? Hah, as if that little greasemonkey could keep me save, he can't even keep his own goddamn self save, he muses. It didn't seem though that he would let go of him, no matter how often he orders and tries to escape. Naturally he does what a self-respecting man like he would do – he caves in.  
  
“FINE, you NANCE. We are going to cuddle.” Soldier grunts and moves around in his arms so that his back faces the wall of warmth. “But we will cuddle like men do!”  
“Mh-hm...” Engineer mutters. He rests his face against the man's lats and rasps his unshaven jaw against the rough fabric of his shirt. This, he figures, is how men cuddle? Probably not. Men don't cuddle. Then again, men don't go around and kiss other men either, like Soldier had done. What in sams hill had been driving him to do it, he wonders. He hadn't had the time to ponder about it intensively, and now that he has, he just wonders if this would have a specific meaning. Well, did it? Jealousy, spontaneous kisses – there was no way Soldier had a crush on him, right? Could that be? No. No, no way Soldier, the man who damns love as vulnerability, calls it a betrayal to a man's masculinity, and especially same-sex love as the most unpatriotic thing in existence, would have a crush on his friend, right? It must have been one of those 'soldier'-moments that were unpredictable and hardly reasonable to anyone but Soldier himself. Engineer listens to Soldier's respiration, feels his body rise and sink slightly against his arm.  
  
“Solly...?” he mutters after a while, when he is sure the Soldier is already fast asleep. But he isn't, in fact, he barely moves in his arm, but his head is twisted over his shoulder to look at him.  
“Jus' wanted ta thank ya for t'day.” he mutters. “For uh, defendin' and gettin' the spah before he could do any more damage...”  
Engineer feels a little sting at the scar on his back as he mentions that incident again. Soldier is silent for a long while.  
“Don't mention it, private.” he says then, softly, and turns around again.  
“No, ah mean it, really. If ya didn't take care of that Demoman, or that spy, we might have lost that paycheck today. Red ain't gonna be happy about those two hundred dollars they're missin' on.”  
Soldier says nothing. For a second he believes he had fallen asleep, but he hears him puff out a sigh through his nostrils and knows he is still awake and...waiting for something. Engineer knows exactly what.  
“Ah, well, err...ah should have told'cha long before, but – ya did some mighty fine job out there, pardner.”  
It seems like that feeds the Soldier's ego well enough. He shifts back into his position, and chuckles in his throat, _mhh-mhh_ , before he adds: “I _know_ that, maggot.”  
  
It's not even close to a 'thank you', but Engie figures that is how Soldiers displays gratitude, or, approval of gratitude shown towards them. It's enough for now. Engineer closes his eyes again, inhales Soldier's scent, a strange but pleasant mingle of gunpowder, aftershave and dried paint, and closes his eyes again a second time. Until he thinks he catches glance of something on the Soldier's body the moonshine illuminated as he moved. Engineer blinks and stares at the exposed neck close to his nose. Soldier had scars too. Many, much more than Engineer. Years of constant fighting marked his body and skin and mind just as much as his own, may it be fire, arrows, bullets or knifes. But something seemed out of place. There were the usual white streaks on the man's skin, inflicted by blades and shrapnel, a few holes from a Heavy's machine gun. And of course, a large burn mark that stretched nearly over his entire back. He knew, since he had seen the Soldier's uncovered back a few times already. But that strange looking, dark-pink form on the mans nape was new. It didn't look like any weaponry they were give would have set that on him. He ponders if the eyelander could have done that. No, the eyelander made clean cuts, the mark wouldn't be bigger than any other of those scars on the man's shoulder and back. Or maybe an arrow? They wouldn't leave remnants in shape and form like that.  
  
Curiosity took over as Engineer carefully hooked the finger on his hand in the collar of the shirt and pulled it down slightly to reveal the mark a little better, not noticing his actions might startle and wake the Soldier. He couldn't really make out what it was, but after tracing a finger over the burned skin, he knew it had a specific shape, too contoured to be a simple burn, to precise. This one looked like someone had forcefully pressed a scorching object against his skin and branded him. What in heaven's name is this, he wonders. And how did it get there on his body? And how had he never noticed it before while they were in the showers or any other occasion where they were exposed in each others presence? Engineer closes in, his breath rasping over the man's skin, as he more prominently traced his finger over his flesh. It must have hurt. Hurt a damn much. Most of the scars left on his body where the worst memories of pain and agony. This one - This one must have been true pain. Just before he could pull further on the shirt and trace the map of scars on the man's back, he feels him suddenly twitch, turn around, staring at him with his eyebrows crooked. Engineer lets go of him instantly. They stare at each other, only mere inches between their faces, looking back up at him wide-eyed and perplexed, as though he literally had no idea what just happened.  
  
“A-ah'm---uh....” Engineer's mouth opens and closes again. “Ah'm sorry, I...”  
Soldier's face hardly softened at his words – he stares in a mixture of surprise and confusion back at the man. And then, Soldier suddenly lifts his hand, grabs the Engineer by his arms, and there is a shift in the bed. Engineer finds himself gasping, pressed against the mattress hard, face buried in the cushion and Soldier leaning on top of him.  
  
“Soldier, what---?” Engineer tries to pry himself away from the man and sit up, but a hand roughly snatching onto his neck and pressing him down again detained him from moving. A sense of sudden fear flooded his mind. Panic. His body began to tremble. What was he doing? Was he going to hurt him? Or, worst of all – was that a spy? Cloaked as a Soldier and simply waiting for his chance to strike? Engineer desperately wanted to see the man's face, see if the disguise would fall, a hissing sound, a change in appearance, a knife sinking into his flesh and catching him right at the time when respawn was not active; and kill him once and for all. He doesn't dare though, knowing the man would probably push him back into position again. The tinkerer stiffens in fright, waiting for the Soldier's next move. Frantic fingers pulled on his shirts, pushed them over his body. Oh no – The man on top of him was a spy. No doubt. He had completely immobilized him, he struggled against Soldiers weight and grip at his wrist but the more he moved, the deeper Soldier pressed him into the matress. His ribs started hurting. He would grab his knife any second now, and then ram it into his back. At the most vulnerable time, when respawn was deactivated. Horror flooded his mind. They had let in an intruder.  
  
It doesn't happen as Engineer feared though. Soldier pushed Engineer's shirts up and over his shoulder. His back is exposed and instantly prickled with goosebumps. There, the Soldier stops. Inspecting, it seemed. Engineer holds his breath. A gentle, touch scoots over his neck and down his spine, tracing the same scar he had back then in the washrooms. Traced the same scars, brushing over them in silent awe, paying particular attention to the fresh, new remnants from today's battle on top of his neck. Fingers are replaced with the tip of a nose swiftly which scoot over the flesh, press, take a sniff from the skin there. Engineer arches into the soft touch with another confused sound. “Soldier...?” he breathes.  
  
“Those damn spies.” he hears him snarl against his neck as he continued to keep his nose close to his lats. “If there is one thing I hate more than anything, it's spies.”  
“...It ain't that bad, Sal.” Engineer soothes the military man, once he is absolutely sure his intentions were none of the vicious kind. He tries to keep his calm with that massive wall of muscles hovering above him. “It hurts for a second. And before ya know, ya back in respawn...”  
“Does this still hurt...?” Soldier asks, exhaling damp and warm breath over the small hairs on his nape. Engineer's breath hitches in his throat.  
“N-Nope...can't say it does. At least not anymore now.” a shy smile slinks its way on his face. Soldier grumbles and murmurs something. His hands, close to each side of Engineer's head, bend a little and he feels him press into his back, pushing him into the mattress, this time not to extends that Engineers ribcage ached.  
“I am going to make sure... _myself_ ...that no spy will dare to put a hand on you...” he speaks.  
“Heh...ain't that mighty kind of ya?” Engineer drawls, closing his eyes for a moment as he relaxes.  
  
He lets the wave of relief wash over his mind that he wasn't going to ultimatively be stabbed and die by the hand of a cloaked spy, and Soldiers dark, deep breaths brushing over his skin and into his mind and heart...  
It reminds him of a dream. A dream he had once in the midst of lonesomeness, when he craved to touch and be touched, especially by a person he admired. And it had been Soldier. He couldn't explain how this had happened, and why it had come back several times after that. But it did. And now it seemed one of these dreams were actually very close to becoming true.  
  
He toys around with this idea for a few moments.  
It doesn't hold long though, as he twists underneath Soldier's body to look up into his eyes. They seemed bluer than usually, glowing in the dimmed room. Engineer's hand scoots over Soldier's nape and gives it a little pull. Soldier frowns at him confused first. Doesn't seem like he catches his hint. Engineer rolls his eyes and pulls Soldier's head down to his, lips crashing together. Soldier is taken aback first, but mirrors the movements of Engineer very soon, parting barely, tongues propping at their mouths to taste the other. They are allowed to sample.  
  
He hears Soldier give an comfortable moan rumbling between, probably also a little confused. They break apart shortly after and Engineer frowned. "Was that yer first kiss?" he asked, judging by the strange look Soldier had beneath his helmet, and the awkward way Soldiers lips and tongue had moved. Its sort of amusing...  
Soldier looked away, and doesn't say a word. He then shifts on top of Engineer, arms pushing his body up and hovering just inches above the texan, lips savaging each other, teeth grazing and nibbling and tongues playing, and it takes Engineer a considerable amount of will craft to part. He pants against Soldier's lips momentarily.  
  
“Now ya gotta explain me why ya been doin' this, mister...” Engineer mutters. His voice is soft and small.  
“Do _what_ ?” Soldier furrows his eyebrows.  
“The whole kissin' me deal in the shower and all. That ain't nothin' ya should do on every random guy ya meet.”  
It's hard to perceive the change on the man's face in the barely lit room, judging by the way he is shifting and wiggling slightly around and murmuring under his breath and not looking at him, he is trying very hard to find an answer that doesn't sound weird. It takes a few seconds before the Soldier finds a suitable reply.  
  
“I am not here to answer questions.” he growls against the Engineer's mouth. It involuntarily makes him shudder a little. He presses them together once again and robs Engineer of any sneer that the smart texan could have prepared. Engineer hesitates again firstly, more interested in what the Soldier was going to do now. He feels those sturdy arms crawl beneath his form and the mattress and claw at his skin, short clipped nails drawing lines up and down his sides. Engineer hears himself moan into Soldier's throat at the sensual feeling, and returns it, now fully succumbing to his kisses and touch, his arms looping around his neck and grabbing his terribly thin shirt and tugging on it. Soldier stops a little confused. “What do you think you're doing?” he snarls deep and breathy. “Sharin' warmth.” is Engineer's sneaky answer and he pulls it out of the seams of his sweatpants and over his body, pushing it over his shoulders.  
  
“You're way out of line, cowboy,” Soldier narrows his eyes. “I didn't give you permission to undress me.”  
“Boy, ya better get that darn thing off now or imma beat the livin' daylight outta ya!”  
Soldier is visibly taken aback by that menacing hiss coming from that usually calm man, and it's enough for Engineer to finally pull that garment off him and pools it down his arms. Inside Engineer there suddenly flames up a feeling of longing for the military man he had never felt before, never so fierce, a strange feel of need for the man. He had always somehow pined for contact after staying dry somewhere I the nowhere. The fact its Soldier adds a little exciting spark to it. It's a little scary however, remembering that this was most probably a wrong move. But does he care? Right now he had a quite handsome man hovering over him, he was too occupied to give a damn. Without a forewarning, Soldier moves Engineer around again, pressing him into the mattress with his chest and burying his face in his neck, growling against his skin. Engineer melts against the warm wall of muscles and chest hair and hums satisfied into the mattress, followed by a gasp when Soldier starts rolling his hips against his backside. He is not gentle, heck, tenderness is nothing the Soldier knew, and he nibbles and bites into his skin and pushes his crotch against the Engineer in a demanding fancy.  
  
“Slow down there pardner.” Engineer nearly felt a chuckle tumble from his lips at that desperate grinding of the man on top. Soldier snarls, canine-like and very frustrated. “Patience is the key to success. Sun Tzu said that.”  
“He did not say that.”  
“Ah read Sun Tzu, and understood it, compared to you.”  
Engineer smirks at the man knitting his eyebrows together and snarling. He knows he shouldn't push his luck, but teasing him is quite fun, especially when it gave him that opportunity to watch the man bow to his consent. Engineer was not going to keep him waiting.  
  
His hand hooks on his pants and push them down, slowly and with a ting of embarrassment mingling together with sudden...desire. But he ignores it, especially when his naked form slowly exposes for the Soldier, before he hears him fumbling with his own garment. Sharing warmth this way was definitely effective, Engineer muses. He couldn't have imagined though it would seep so quickly into his limbs and body as Soldier pushes his hips against his backside and Engineer feels him, thick and rigid and warm rubbing over the small of his back and he swallowed, gasps when Soldier's hand grips his shoulder and holds him down, his other hand ventures and holds his hip, moving it up and off the sheets to meet his.  
  
“You've been the only one daring to set against my orders. Multiple times.” Soldier hisses into his ear. “I am hoping kindly that confidence is something you learn in Texas...”  
Engineer chuckles with his voice now a mix of trembles and the same sassy spark he always kept. He could feel the hardening cock against him pulse slightly with every friction against him.  
“Ya learn quite a few useful things in texas, alright.” Engineer looks over his shoulder to meet Soldiers gaze. “Ya better be showin' me then what'cha learn in the midwest.”  
“Sir, yes sir!”  
  
That was a mistake. Oh, it was a mistake to say that to the Soldier.  
  
Engineer is used to the gentle, teasing lovemaking he witnessed along his college years. And his previous married life. He had considere too late that Soldier weren't much of a man of sweet words, handholding and the arts of making love, seeing as he was never the romantic type of character.  
Soldiers grip around him suddenly tightens. To extends that it started to hurt. Engineer gasped, not in happiness like before – but in surprise. Fingernails dig into his flesh, and hold onto.   
He barely has time to finish. The Soldier moved his length in position.  
“C-Careful, Soldier, ya wouldn't want to--- _Ga_ _h!_ ”  
  
Soldier shoved inside him, ignoring the resistance, pushing in rapidly. Dell never experienced such pain. He had broken several bones, got cut, burned, shot, fallen off cliffs or killed by fists and shovels. This all felt like gentle nicks compared to the pain he feels in this very moment. His jaw drops in a silent scream. His eyes pop open to wide it nearly looked like they sprung out of its very sockets. His body cramps in a way he never experienced before. Both convulsed in pain at the connection, Soldier staying half way inside the Engineer as he waited for the texan to stop his pained panting.  
  
“Take it like a man.” Soldier hissed.  
  
Engineer held tightly onto the sheet beneath him, breathing through his nose, breathing through this sudden invasion – and through Soldiers spastic moving.  
Suddenly, the very teasing and happy atmosphere they had before was gone with a slap.  
“S-Slow down.” Engineer panted. But Soldier ignored him. He held the man tightly, blinded by the relief he suddenly felt. He huffed and grunted, hands holding Engineer from escaping. Engineer was right – this way of sharing warmth definitely was definitely more efficient. In fact, Soldier was sure he had never been feeling so heated in his entire life as he thrust faster and deeper into the Engineer. He hears the man beneath him gasping, feels him quiver and shake and throbbing around him, causing Soldier's hands to tighten around his hips and grunt loudly at the feeling of pressure building within him. Engineer on the other hand closes his eyes, brows knitted into a deep frown as he tries to let the pain seep away and instead find some pleasure in this hard and unloving way the Soldier was taking him. The bed creaked and shook and started thumbing against the wall, mixed with his own grunts, and Soldiers deep, pitiful groans and puffs that grew louder. Engie feared the entire base would hear them, so unabashed loud was Soldiers voice.  
  
“S-Soldier keep it down!” He hissed, his voice thin.  
He doesn't answer, but instead pressing his chest against the Engineer's back and pushing him into the mattress, his hips falling into a wild spasm as he ventures towards completion. Engineer groans at the weight on top of him and the strange and contiguous uncomfortable feeling of their coupling that comes with every stroke inside him. It didn't feel like he would very soon come to an end. He wasn't correctly stimulated, the mood for him was gone, his expectations not fulfilled. Soldier on the other hand was quite close. Engineers desperate voice rips Soldier's mouth away from his neck as a sound of deepest pleasure erupts from deep in his throat, rattling through the little room, followed by his hips frantically pushing into him, and warm release filling him up, heat pooling inside him and Engineer drowned a strangled sound in the pillow.  
They stay like this, frozen to the spot, Soldier holding the trembling body close to his own as they bathe in the lingering heat and ride out the wave of afterglows. Then suddenly, Engineer's legs give in and he slumps to the bed, with Soldier landing on top of him. The room is filled with harsh pants that die down gradually. Everything was burning, his skin, his insides, especially his backside, and he feared this may gonna follow him throughout the next few days either. Engineer stayed still few more minutes, buried under Soldier's warm, naked body, before he has finally caught his breath and feels the heat that rushed through his body slowly fade, replaced by a clinging buzzing inside his system.  
  
When he feels the man on top is getting too heavy, he starts squirming. “Hoss, ya gettin' a lil heavy up there...” he mutters muffled after his bones start to ache from two hundred pounds of muscles resting on top of him.  
“Ya hearin' me, boy?” Engineer tries to turn to look at the man. He was asleep. Silent snores rumble in the depths of the man's throat, his eyes closed shut.  
“Yeah...sleep well too...” he mutters with a gentle roll of his eyes, before fighting his way into freedom from beneath the resting Soldier. He gives a puff in exhaustion, and decides to rest as well now. He wouldn't move to the other bed in nothing but a single blanket and no clothes, and since sharing warmth was most effective anyway, and since he felt like he just ran a marathon, he decides to rest here. Soldier would probably push him out early in the morning, but at least neither of them would freeze.

 


	5. Forgetting

The first rays of sunlight tickle on the Engineers nose. He creased his face, before slowly opening his eyes. The first thing he sees after the blur of sleep fades from his sight is the clock on the nightstand, reading 5:17 in the morning.  
The first thing he feels is...warmth. He was quite sure the last time he was awake he was still freezing, considering they were somewhere stuck in the mountains. He moves around in his bed, rolling to his other side and with a tinge of stunner, noticing his arm brushing against something that wasn't fabric. He opens his eyes once more, and spots a body lying next to him.

Broad shoulders are turned towards him. Rough, scarred skin stretch over the muscular back. The cover gently lifting and sinking with every breath the man next to him takes.   
It's Solly. Engineer slowly recollects the events from last night that lead to this situation.   
He had suggested to share warmth. They did. In a very 'convenient' way.   
For their friendship however, this wasn't convenient at all, and Engineer repeats that internally. Just now does actually realization dawn upon him. It hits him fiercely in the face.   
_Are you crazy,_ he think. He is your friend! Your colleague! What you just did was...well, actually, he started it! Just what kind of game is he playing? The kissing, the jealousy, the sex...  
  
Engineer knew not to question people like Soldier, people with no moral, sanity, or even a sense of discretion, but right now, he couldn't help it. This was a mistake. This was a grave mistake.   
   
Soldier wakes up in a less gentle way. The ruffled duvet that gets thrown over his head, the frantic movements on the wooden floor, the goddamn cold in this godforsaken room.   
His body reacts before his brain can, he sits up swiftly, a harsh breath pressed between closed teeth that resembled an alert growl.  
  
“ _ATTACK! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!_ ” Soldier yelled at the top of his lungs. Engineer yelped, dropped his underwear. He wheeled around and stared at the Soldier like a frightened bunny. Eyes wide, a hand on his erratic rising chest.   
“Dagnabbit, Soldier...” he panted. Soldiers eyebrows fell. They always gave him a very angry, and very earnest look, no matter what emotion this man, besides rage, would feel. Now that they sunk even further over his small eyes, he looked like he was glaring right through Engies bones.  
  
“What are you doing here?” He hissed. Engineer blinked. “Ah...p-par--”  
“IS THIS HOW YOU GREET YOUR SERGANT, MAGGOT?! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK, DIDNT YOU HEAR?”   
He snatched the underwear from his flabbergasted bed-mate. “This is MY underwear! You will not take MY underwear!! You are not WORTHY of my underwear you scumsu---” It seemed the mans pretty petty mind caught up with the whole situation surrounding him. His eyes looked from Dell to his hand.  
“Whu...?”  
He blinked. Raised the covers of the bed, looked beneath. Let them fall back on his body, stared at the underwear in his hand, back at Dell. Why was his underwear in his hand? And not on his body, where it belonged to?  
  
“Ye better get into 'em.” Dell muttered, rolled his eyes and turned around, instead looking for his own underwear. “We are late.”  
“...Private I have some questions.”  
“Keep 'em fer later, hoss.”   
  
The very least Engineer wanted at this moment was to address the obvious scenario they were caught in. They hadn't had the time. And Engineer hadn't had the nerves.   
He supposed, Soldier would forget about this anyway, soon, maybe as quick as possible. Soldier was perplexed however. Blinking under the helmet he hadn't even put down during his sleep.   
While Engineer seemed to be exactly informed what to do now, after waking up next to his teammate, Soldier was lost like a pup, and Engineer refused to elucidate him.  
  
“D--Do NOT ignore me!!” He yelled. “Ive got questions, and you will answer them!”  
  
“ _ALERT! MISSION BEGINS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES! GATHER AT PICKUP AREA!  
_ ”   
The female voice echoed loudly through the intercon, which was attached in every corner of the small house. Just in case anybody would miss such important messages.  
Engineer was swiftly putting on the blue regulation shirt on his body, and buckled his belt and straps. “Ye heard the lady, we oughta--”   
He was knocked almost over by the force of Soldiers body rushing past him.  
  
“OUT OF MY WAY, HARDHAT!!” He yelled. “ASIDE, SMOKEY JOE!!” his voiced echoed through the corridor as he rushed to the breakfast table – naked. Engineer meant to warn him about that, but while his brain was quick to function, Soldiers actions were even quicker to catch up with. Pyros startled noise had ebbed into angry grumbles, Engineer looked into the corridor to see the gas-masked person picking up the content of a plate he accidentally had spilled on the floor.  
  
“Aw, pyro did ya done went and get me sum breakfast?” Engineer smiled lopsided at him. The firebug nodded in excitement, handing the plate over. Most of the cookies were either burned to extends where eating them would cause certain death, and others were covered in hair and dust from the floor they had tumbled to.  
“Aaw, ain't that nice of ya...” Engie smirked. “Buuut, ah think imma take 'em with me to the battlefield, what ya think?”   
Pyro clapped excited. “Bmmptthmphffmhht!” he cheered. Seemed like he was pumped for today, huffing a mumbled snicker. He marched ahead, ready to grab food and join the rest of the half-frozen mercenaries. The Engineer, on the other hand, declined to eat.  
  
His body hurt. It hurt everywhere. Speaking hurt. Moving hurt. Walking hurt the most.  
He puffed out a labored breath as he dragged himself to the washing rooms. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't come across Soldier there. Its absurd, after spending the night in the same bed, including certain activities that involved heavily shoving six inches of hot iron ramming into his behind – and then avoiding the man like the plague.   
He groaned behind shut teeth, silently, so the hungover Demo who was spending a little too much time under the hot water without moving, wouldn't notice him. He ought to look like the Demo there, heavy eyes and headaches rumoring in his skull. Instead the aches rumored somewhere else.  
  
Engie pressed a hand to his forehead. Cold. He certainly had no excuse to skip today then. But never had he ever felt more like staying here, in the non-heated base, than going out and fight and run and have Soldier as his personal Spy-checker.   
He did not know if he should regret last ight fully. It didn't feel like he had any other way that would give him some sort of warmth to fall asleep. Soldier surely didn't seem to be unhappy about yesterday either. Then again, he shoulda oughta show that rough-type what it feels like to be the bottom, because goddamnit, he would surely not be all golly and active as he actually was.   
  
Now that he actually thought about it, whatever happened last night would most likely have been frowned upon as rape.   
Engineer didn't bother with this idea since he was absolutely sure the expand of Soldiers consciousness was not that vast enough to know what sex was, and how it was supposed to be. He was following selfish instincts and orders, he thought. Maybe, if the situation called for it, he could probably show him more proper instructions on how to...  
  
He shook his head. No. There wasn't anything to discuss about this again. Not a second time of this. No questions he would answer, even if Soldier would bug him with that for days.   
Talking would mean facing the topic. And that would mean caring.  
Caring would mean thinking.   
Pondering. Remembering...  
Imagining. Desiring...  
 _Craving..._  
And eventually Taking actions.  
  
And after that – Caring too much. Expecting too much. Wanting too much. Loosing too much... Which only resulted in more Heartache.  
He sighed. And then, he decided, he would have to endure the pain this way or another way. He could not leave the team behind, not today. They had beaten the RED's son'uva'bitches already yesterday – chickening out was no option.   
Either they ended this like men, or they will go down, with no paycheck, no food rations, and no honor. Half of the mercenaries didn't give two damns about honor. What did honor, over food? Which sane man would fight for a classification, rather than essential resources? Engineer knew one.   
  
Oh, he knew one, alright. And no, it was not only Soldier. Spy for example did a very good job in shunning himself into his room, locked up and would only come out if his last cigarette was smoked and the numbing withdrawal symptoms would lure him out to head for Teufort. And heck, Spy avoided Teufort as much as even possible. Engineer turned the faucet. It was set to hot, but only cold water would flow into his already cold hands. He splashed it into his face. He scrubbed off the sand in his eyes, and loosened his lids from being heavy and dark.

 

 

  
Engineer pulled the flaps of his jacket further over his face, to stand the gust of winds that swirled around the team. Scout standing next to him had bought five jackets in the nearest village, he had learned his lesson from the outward bound, and still shivered like a thin leaf with frozen snot sticking to the nose. Sniper had pulled the hood of his jacked far over his head and pulled the cords close. Snow covered his yellow sunglasses and thawed into cold water dripping down his nose and chin. He was shivering too, yet didn't show any signs of it besides a nervous twitching in his legs. So did spy, covered in his furcoat to the bridge of his curved nose and hands slipped in thick gloves. Heavy, on the other side, didn't freeze at all. He was born in snow. Raised in snow. Heck, he might as well have been conceived in snow either. Medic had buried himself into Heavys jacket as well, looking like a kangaroo sitting in its mothers pouch. A funny image yet anybody commenting on it received a deathglare from the giant at the germans side.   
  
They were waiting.   
In the gray and dark dusk and heavy snowfall, its impossible to tell what for however. Maybe they were waiting for the controlpoint to be readied up? Maybe for the cart to be available? No. There were no fences holding the men. No sliding doors that waited to be opened. No Administrator to count down to zero. Engineer turned to look at the giant clock hanging above his head. Its supposed to arrive soon, he thought...  
  
It felt like a merciful angel had granted his silent wishes, for the map yesterday was chosen to be Viaduct. Viaduct used to be nothing more than a gorge formed by a dried out river, later on used for observations in the Mann twins era. Over years, Sentries had done nothing over days than spying at the other side of the small hill, and waiting for one of them to cross the borders into the enemies territory. Today, a single controlpoint was set to capture. No running, no rushing from a to b, Engineer had thought, and puffed out a small breath.   
  
Things have gone smoothly. He had found his spot behind a big boulder and a few planks of wood to protect him further, sentry up right in the blind angle of the enemies sniper shooting range, dispenser in a small niche behind protruding stones.  
Pyro had been rushing forwards but nevertheless, Engineer had asked him to stick around. He was absolutely not sure that Soldier would actually keep his promise of, well...spychecking.  
And it had been a wise decision, for it seemed it seemed as if the map had been flooded with spies.  
  
He knows thats not even possible, as every team had only one. But goddamn, seemed like that snake had started doing some intense Deathringer training. Whenever he seemed to be killed off, he reappeared somewhere else, and struck the poor Pyro down. Which had been bad, seeing as RED had kept the controlpoint contested for over a minute already.   
  
Somewhere in between, Soldier randomly appeared in front of Engie's sentry, started throwing a tandrum over how pyro was, once again 'being useless' for sticking around the sentry and not fighting. He and only he would do the spychecking.  
The outcome of the position change was predictable – spy uncloaked, Spy was shot down, Spy reappeared, Spy killed him. Soldier had apparently become pissed at the constantly red glowing dot that appeared at his forehead whenever he dared looking out and in blind anger, had blasted off to strike the enemies Sniper down; leaving Engineer unprotected.   
It was a miracle they actually managed to keep the point occupied throughout the entire match. Engineer however had yelled into Soldiers face.  
  
“Yer egg-headed goddamn yankee! If ah see ya close ta any of mah tools again, boy, Ah'm gonna stuff yer full of bullets and server yer as Christmas dinner!”  
He was dead serious. And Soldier had understood. It had been one of the many times that Soldier was simply not able to object. Had it been Heavy, had it been Medic, or Demo, or Scout, hell, Soldier would have started a fight. How dare they deprive the orders of their Sargent like that?  
But this didn't come from Medic, or Scout or anybody Soldier considered below him.  
  
Engineer didn't mean to be this harsh with Soldier, He knows, his intentions were good. But damn, it was counterproductive. And besides that, he was in immense pain throughout the entire day.  
They hadn't mentioned the obvious elephant in the room. Hadn't reflected on what happened to this day.   
And that should stay this way. Just a trivial affair, just a trivial night. Engineer had learned not to draw anything meaningful of nights like these. He used to, and his heart was broken the next morning.   
  
He let go of a breath he didn't realize he held. It puffed out into a cloud of steaming plumes. Thick snowflakes had caught on his safety goggles. He pulled the flaps of his coat over his face, just so the numbing cold in the tip of his nose would stop pounding.  He suddenly heard noises behind them. A train arrived. Not theirs, though. Nevertheless, he heard voices rumoring among his team, feet shuffling in the snow to turn and look.  
  
“Oy, take a swatch a' that.” Demo snickered next to Engie. The texan blinked through the heavy wall of snow. On the other side of the platform, a group of mercenaries appeared, moving to the train. RED's mercenaries.   
They were beaten up, wearing casts around arms and legs, thick bandages wrapped around their Heavy's head, their medic wore a cone around his neck, which looked more hilarious than it probably was, their Demo was holding onto their Sniper to move on one still functioning leg.  
  
Once the Red's noticed the raucous guffaw from BLU's side, they started growling like upset wolves, some yelled and threatened to come over there and beat them up with only one arm working, some showed rather obscene gestures with their hands. Sometimes Engineer wondered if the biggest difference between them and RED was that RED certainly lacked any sort of respect. Sure, BLU had times when they made fun of RED's defeat. But RED however, when victorious, liked to put a cherry on the cake, and beat some of them up. He was glad they didn't loose though. He didn't feel like being picked by the enemies Soldier and Demo again and being forced to eat the dirt off their shoes.   
  
“We showed them who's boss, huh?”  
“Mhhph mh!” Pyro nodded.  
“Yeah! They goonna think twice next time they battlin' with oos again! Ye hear?!” Demo called over to the RED's. “Go ta hell ye booncha big ugly garls!”  
“Eat shit, rummy!” RED Scout yelled.  
“Ach! Who ye callin' a rummy?” Demo bend down, picked up a bunch of snow, formed a ball and threw it with full force across the platform. And into Scouts face.   
  
Laughter spread among the BLU's upon seeing the speedster tumbling background and landing in the snow. Engineer however noticed the train rolling in from their side, the bright orbit of the headlights breaking through the snow.   
“Boys, c'mon, our ride's here.” he pulled their attention off of the griping and yelling RED Scout, and towards the opening doors of the large express that would bring them back home to New Mexico. 

Everyone heaved their heavy luggage into the train, soaking the neatly carpeted red floor with snow and mud as they boarded the train. There was way too much space in this train for only nine men to carry, but since they basically had nothing to pay for the ride, no one complained. The train had no sections that were separated by walls. It just had rows of chairs, in soft cushioned red fabrics, the curtains were red as well, and the patterns on the hazelbrown walls were red as well. It stung in the eyes for a moment, but after a while you'd get used to it.  
  
Heavy threw his giant bear-fur coat over one of the seats to 'reserve' it for himself and the medic, before Scout would take it and put his muddy shoes on the table – like he did across from them, his feet propped on the table, with pyro across from him.   
“Am I really a rummer, Sniper?” Demo asked, his chin rested on the table, his one eye watering already a little.  
“Nah.” Sniper shook his head, opening his newspaper.  
“But that slimy weasel called me a rummer.” Demos voice was cracking.  
“He's a wanker, Demo.”  
“Ye joost think uf me as a one eyed bloodeh monster too, dunye?”  
“Nah.”  
“Yes, you do.”  
“Nah.”  
“I killed me foster parents...”  
“It was a mistake.”  
“Ye think of me as a mistake too, ye?”  
“Nah.”  
“Ye joost not tellin' me to not hurt me feels.”  
“Sorta.”  
  
Spy rolled his eyes. “Fantastic. I'm all excited to 'ave zhis drama going on for se rest of se trip.” he rumbled and flicked the barrel of his lighter, igniting his cigarette and taking in a deep breath.   
There was a sudden cracking sound.  
 _“The gentlemen in the balaclava in seat 104 B, smoking during the ride is prohibited in every section of the train, thank you.”_ the voice sounded, and then died down with another cracking sound.  
“Ugh.” Spy growled, and angrily pressed the cigarette out at the carpeted wall next to him.  
 _“Ahem, The extinguishing of cigarettes at any carpeted part of the train is prohibited as well, thank you.”_

Engineer didn't realize he had fallen asleep until the felt something heavy leaning against his shoulder, followed by a soft buzzing in his ear. For a drowsy moment he was sure it was only his large suitcase that has had slipped to the side from a sharp curve the train would drive. However, once Engie blinked outside, he was sure the train hadn't been moving into any other direction but straight lines over the last hours. He squinted at the clock; He hadn't slept a lot. Two hours perhaps, but luckily it seemed he wasn't the only one asleep.   
Sniper and Demo were leaning against each other heavily, a string of saliva dripping down onto Snipers shoulder, and Snipers hat slipping from his head onto Demo's slightly. Scout had his arms crossed and his head lulled back in the seat, suckling on his thumb. Pyro had curled himself across Scouts lap and coughed happy little snores.  
Heavy had pulled the hood of his bear coat over his face and his hands folded over his lap. He had the loudest snoring among the mercenaries.  
Medic and Spy were sitting at an isolated table and were discussing some trivial things.   
  
For a moment Engineer entertained the idea of joining them. He didn't feel like sleeping anymore, and besides sitting and waiting and staring outside the window, he had nothing more to do anyway. So, as he slightly moved to stand, he felt the same heavy pressure on his shoulder than he did as he woke up.   
  
Soldier was sitting next to him. His chin resting on his chest, the helmet hanging low over his face. Arms folded over his chest, legs spread apart into a firm stand, even in his sleep. The softest rumble of his snores tickled at his ear.   
He hadn't noticed Soldier had taken a seat next to him. So close as well – shoulder to shoulder while the train swayed them around ever so slightly.   
To a Soldier, it means nothing, the seat next to a comrade; no matter how physically close they come has no other purpose than to save space and heck, if their Sargent ordered them to, they would probably even go ahead and sit in each others lap.  
But Engineer knew why Soldier sat close to him. And only him.

  
“We must share warmth”, he had said, as he looked over to the Engineers bed.   
“We must what now?”  
“Share warmth. It's cold. Your tenuous civilian body cant compete to the cold nights.”  
Engineer had rolled around in his bed and faced the man with his back.   
“It ain't that cold tonight Sal. Me and mah 'tenuous civilian body' gonna handle it, thanks.”  
Silence had spread for a moment.  
“Those are the orders.” Soldier had countered. “Sharing warmth in time of great … uhh...”  
“Those ain't orders, Sal, jus' basic human survival instincts.”  
“Sir?”  
“Jus'...let it go, yeah? G'night.”  
He hadn't looked at Soldier, yet he knew the man had put much effort into this. He had put a second pillow there. Kept some space between himself and that empty spot next to him. That warm, tempting spot next to the man.  
“In times of great...uh...gizmo,it makes sense to share warmth. Those are the orders.”  
“Solly, let it go already, those ain't no orders.”  
“But you told me to.”   
  
Engineer hadn't answered on that. He had pretended to be asleep, and avoid any further conversation regarding that topic. Soldier had stayed there, staring back at the Engineer and waiting for a reaction. Probably for more than an hour. Before he gave up and went to sleep as well. After this conversation, Engineer could feel his heart aching. He had to swallow down even to get the lump in his throat out of the way. If he wouldn't know it better, he just had witnessed Soldier asking for...physical contact.   
Engineer didn't mean to hurt the mans feelings. He never meant to treat him like this, like something disposable after it served its purpose. But as he buried his face in the pillow to overcome the floods of compassion he felt, he knew, if he would buckle now, he wouldn't be able to keep that professional dynamic up anymore. He would kiss him. And hold him, and with trembles in his voice, beg to be fucked.   
  
Engineer sighed, as he stared for what seemed the hundredth time over to the sleeping man next to him. He would scoot over, but he would probably fall off the seat then. Besides, the soft press of Soldiers expanding torso with each deep breath he drew in rhythmic intervals served a somehow calming ambiance.   
  
Outside the window, there was nothing more to see than endless landscapes of snow.   
Thick snowflakes that pitter-pattered against the windows, thawed and turned into streaks of water running along the window pane.   
Engineer looked to the Soldier.  
The lights fluttered slightly. Engineer looked to the Soldier.  
Engineer heard the Medics and Spies hushed voices at the other side of the train, but his will to join them had died out. As he knew them, it was just gonna be professional talk.  
And Engineer looked over to the man again.   
  
And this time his eyes stayed to watch the mans face. He hadn't shaved in days. Stubble formed around the mans jawline, dark and spiky, tough to the touch. He knew, for he had raised his hand to stroke them with the back of his fingers. He only stopped, once he caught himself doing so, and retreated his hand again. Christ, if Soldier was awake, his fingers were mangled at that point, he was sure.   
But somehow, he could not have helped himself.   
  
He retreated his hand, and continued staring anywhere but the man next to him. The feel of the mans skin against his resonated in his mind. Rough and manly, and the sharp curve of his jawline...  
It didn't take longer than twenty seconds before Engineer looked up at him again, and reached for his face once more.  
To his neck. He brushed along the skin there, felt the pulse of the man thumping steadily beneath that thick layer of skin. He looked back at the dark short hair building on his face, to the trimmed stubble of his graying sideburns. He never had seen the man without that helmet. Not even in the showers. The man always wore it, wherever he went. He never had seen the mans eyes. Never seen the color of his hair. Or any other expression than anger on his weather-beaten face.   
  
He was asleep, right? He wouldn't notice it if...  
  
Engineer gulped. His fingers brushed ghostly over the mans cheekbones, up to the hard lip of the helmet. The thing was heavy. But he managed to lift it with two inconspicuous fingers hooked under that bucket. The shadow casting over the mans face slowly solved, exposing the broad bridge of the mans nose, sharp cheekbones, a few scars here and there. Wrinkles around the mans nose and under what seemed to be his eyes.  
  
He looked old.   
He knew Soldier wasn't any older than he was, perhaps give or take one or two years. Well, he himself wasn't the youngest fella on earth either; constant fighting left his own face in scars and sure, if he had his hair growing back, he surely wouldn't be surprised if his usually blonde hair had turned colorless throughout the ten years spend at Mann Co. Soldier always had looked old. And tired.   
He had arrived at Mann Co with scars already visible at his face. Small white streaks on his rugged face. One or two teeth missing. Larger marks spread over his body. Engineer even knew the Soldiers right ear was shredded at the top. How did he know that? He had inflicted that one by accident.   
  
Suddenly, the train came to an abrupt stop. Everyone was nearly thrown out of their seats by the powers of centrifugal force; Engineer was awkwardly thrown against the Soldier, banging his head with the mans helmet, which echoed inside his skull like a churchbell.  
  
 _“A-ATTACK! WE ARE UNDER ATTA--”_  
The train screeched and wheezed as it slowed, and slowed down – until it came to a stop and nearly threw Engineer into the other direction.   
Everyone was shaken awake, looking around confused, holding aching bodyparts that had either fallen asleep or banged during the sudden stop against hard surfaces.  
  
“Whot happened?” Sniper called from far at the end of the train.  
 _“WE ARE UNDER ATTACK! HIDE THE WOMEN! HIDE THE CHLDREN! HIDE THE BIBLES--”_  
“Soldier, shut it!!” Engineer had given the man a slap on his helmet to get him out of his panicky state.  
  
“Who voke Heavy?!” Heavy growled angrily as he crammed away from the small wooden table he had landed belly-first on.  
“What se hell ...?” Spy leaned off his seat to stare outside, Medic joined.  
“Vhy did ve stop...?” he asked after a moment of complete silence that had spread among the confused and drowsy mercenaries.   
“Ve can't possibly be zhere yet, right...?”  
Engineer blinked, turned in his seat to stare outside the window as well. He was right. They were still caught in some snowy, cold wasteland, with nothing but train tracks to see.  
  
It felt like a cue, as the door opened, and a lanky, red haired boy stalked into the compartment.   
“E-Err, S-Sorry gentlemen.” he crowed with a terrible juvenile voice break. “Th-The conductor s-said we have r-run out of Gravel, a-and...”  
  
“Speak clearly son, we aren't in Russia!” Soldier growled and stood from his seat to tower over the pimple-peppered redhead.   
“A-Ah, I-I--”  
“Soldier, please leave ze boy be.” Medic pushed past the veteran. “You said ve ran out of Gravel, ja?”  
“Y-Yes, t-to, to fuel the e-engine.” he stammered, his eyes twitching over to the Soldier from time to time.  
“Hold ya horses, son, ya sayin' you've been throwin' Gravel into the furnace?”   
“Y-Yes.”  
  
“GRAVEL?! INTO THE FURNACE?!” Soldier snarled. “Wait, whats wrong about that again...?” he mumbled.  
“Yes, please, d-don't whoop me Sir.” the boy pleaded in fright.  
  
“He ain't gonna do nuthin' to ya, boy.” Engineer sighed. “But without fuel ...”  
Engineer stared outside the window.  
“Oh, crap, does that mean we...” Scout looked over to Demo and Sniper.  
“Goona die here in the freezin' cold?” Demo finished, his voice thin.  
  
Silence.   
  
“OH NO! I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN! _I FORSAW THIS_!!” Scout broke into panicky screams.  
“Thes is th' revenge oof mah deid foster parents! Thes is whit Ah deserve! _Waaaah!_ “ Demo wailed like a chained dog.  
“Ye not gonna die, Demo.“ Sniper patted the mans back.  
“Yes, I will. Let me die here!“  
  
“Vell, it was an unpleasure to know all of you. Adieu.” Spy said, leaned back, and started smoking again.  
“No, Sniper's right.” Engineer turned around. “We ain't gonna die today, fellas.”  
“Then how you wanna get us outta here, huh?” Scout stared at him with wide scared eyes. “Have ya looked around ya for a moment?! We are in the fucking nowhere, snow and ice everywhere!”  
Scout was right, sadly. Who knew how far the next civilization was away from here...  
“But fine, yknow, jus go outside and get eaten by a friggin' Yeti.”  
  
“How far's the next town?” Engineer turned to the teenager.  
“U-Uhm...” the redhead gulped.  
“Where?!”  
“T-Two hours from here, to the East, please stop shouting at me.”   
  
Engineer huffed. Two hours from here...through the icy landscapes.   
“Fine. Ah'll go and get us help.” Engineer moved to his luggage and opened it, grabbing a second jacket and a pair of gloves.  
“Mmph!” Pyro was instantly up on his feet, hands stretched out, shaking his head. “Mph-Mmph!”  
He did not want him to step outside there.  
“Ehm. Engie, are you sure you...”  
“Ah christ, Engie, I was jokin' jus' now, c'mon, ya wouldn't actually--” Scout was up, hands raised, to stop the approaching Engineer. He was pushed aside.  
“Leetle Engineer not go outside.” Even Heavy now joined, rising from his seat in alert. “Winter ees hard and cold.”  
“Well, one of us oughta do it!” Engineer hissed back. “Either we gonna get help, or we really gonna freeze ta death here. And ah'm not supposin' any of yall fellas gonna volunteer, huh?”  
The group of men started adverting their eyes, awkwardly rubbing arms and hands. No one would volunteer, of course. But if Engineer doesn't go, who else would?  
  
“I will accompany you.”   
  
Engineer turned to look at the Soldier. He had stepped forward, hands on his back, one fixed at his forehead in a stiff salute. “At your service, Sir.”   
Engies eyebrows furrowed over his tainted goggles. “Sal, ye ain't need to. Rather one of us goes missin' than too many.”  
“You are a fellow comrade and red-blooded american, and americans don't desert each other.” Soldier's arm flung back to stick stiffly at his side. “I will go with you.”  
“Mph!” Pyro suddenly wheezed angrily. “Mhp Phh'll mho!” He proclaimed.  
“Pyro, buddy please stay here, a'right? Ya know ya ain't used to the cold.”  
“Mph hmn't mmh!” he growled, which practically meant a very huffy 'I don't care'  
  
The tinkerer's shoulders squared. “Pyro, ya gonna freeze out there! Don't ya remember last time ya got lost in the woods at Christmas time?”  
Oh, he does remember. The pack of wolves the Pyro had encountered during his snow hypnosis certainly remembered that evening as well. Or well, at least those few lasts that survived.  
Pyro's shoulders slumped into a sad bow. He looked like one of his balloonicorns, out of air.  
“Your firebug friend will not be any help for this mission.” Soldier commented dryly. “This is a task for real Soldiers. Sense of coordination, navigation, survival – and maleness.”  
Pyro growled beneath his mask at the Soldier. Yet, sadly, he was right. Pyro was too easily distracted. That could cost both their lives.  
Engineer swallowed, and looked around for a moment. He knew nobody else would take Soldiers space by own choice – or accompany them. He bit his lip.  
  
“Fine. Get yer jacket.”  
Engineer himself rolled the zipper far up beneath his nose, pulled down his cap and threw the scarf around his neck, moving to one of the doors. The framework was frozen solid, upon being pushed apart, ice cracked and splintered onto Engies boots.   
“Mmphie!” Pyro literally clung to the man's sleeve, softly sobbing. “Mmease hmpnt mho!” He pleaded. Engineer knew, the firebug would have come along as well. He would do anything for his texan ally. But Engineer also knew he would come to serious harm if he went along.  
“Hey, Py, Ah'll be alright, yeah?”  
“Do not fret, Smoky Joe.” Soldier patted the arsonist on his back; nearly knocking him off his feet.   
“I will protect your frilly friend with my own life.”  
Engineer slightly contorted his face. Pyro still wasn't convinced, his grip even tightened around Engineers sleeve. “Ah'mma be a'right, Py. No worries.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a lil' unspectacular, i have had some issues with separating all this in chapters, But next one will be more exiting i promise !  
> Also happy new year, folks!


	6. Protecting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate comic issue #6, i just go ahead and post the next chapter a bit earlier huehue.  
> I might take a while to get to the next one though.

The cold bit at his earlobes and the tip of his nose. He constantly pressed his gloved hand against it to prevent it from completely freezing. Latching the scarf over his nose wasn't helping either, without his glasses turning foggy – and he had to navigate after all. He stared down at the compass they were given. To East, two hours.   
  
At the beginning, those five hours had sounded manageable. Now, that he actually went ahead, he felt worse for wear with each step. He had lost count of how long he had been walking so far. An hour? Maybe two? Maybe just a few minutes? He had been able to see the headlights of the train at least for a few minutes after he left, and heard the engine growling and huffing as it cooled down. And then the next moment he looked behind him, he heard nor saw nothing besides snow falling and wind whistling. He had gulped, but then he had collected and forced himself to proceed. Towards East. He was on the right way. Or at least, he hoped he was.  
  
Engineer was busy with brushing off snow from the compass, as he heard a familiar sound. Cartridges pushed into the shell of a handgun.  
Engineer turned and stared at the larger figure that had been at his side from the beginning of the journey. Soldier was loading his shotgun to the brim, cocking back the handle.  
  
“Ya brought a weapon along?” the mechanic asked amused.  
“If that's what Scout said is true, then I shall not stay unprepared if we encounter a Yeti.” he held the gun at his chest.  
“There ain't no Yeti's round here.” Engie sighed, and looked at the compass again.  
“I am not running on the chances that there might be one and let that hairy maggot eat me.”  
“The chances ye would run on a yeti are practically zero. He's never been seen, 'least not around Alaska.”  
  
Soldier pondered a while.  
“We are in FULL LOCKDOWN and I can't leave the perimeters unprotected.” he finally exclaimed, angry and determined. He ground his teeth and went ahead of the Engineer.  
  
“Hey, Sal, stay with me, will ya.”  
“I do not walk with men that deny the potential dangers of his teamamtes.”  
  
Engineer shook his head in anger. “Ya kiddin' me?! What the hell ya think ah'm doing right now? Havin' a lil relaxed walk in the freezin' cold?”  
“The snowstorms in the tundra of Poland are relaxed walk.  _This_ here is goddamn sleepwalking!”  
Soldiers steps were long and far. Engineer actually had trouble catching up with him, even though he was surely faster than him if he wanted to. But Christ, he wore two layers of thick fabric around his already short legs and those felt like he had wrapped himself in plaster.   
  
“Would ya goddamn wait for a second!”  
“Put your training to good use and walk faster!!” Soldier growled from ahead. Engineer could see him slowly vanishing behidn the wall of snow.  
Goddamn he couldn't loose him! If they separated now, they would surely die!  
“Soldier, hold on this instant! You wanna get us killed?!” Engineer cried out. Panic began to bubble inside him.  
 _“Soldier!!_ ” he started running. Hasty, heavy steps through inches of snow.  
  
“KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN! THE YETI MIGHT HEAR US!”  
“THERE AIN'T NO YETI YER PIG-HEADED ---”

_**Crack!**  
_  
Engineer froze. Did...did the floor just...  
Give way beneath his foot?  
He looked down, lifted his boot – noticed small bits of snow that seemed to...sink into the ground beneath. Not sink, more like...  
Falling. Into the floor.  
“S-Soldier...” Engineer stammered.  
  
“ _SOLDIER!!_ ”  
“WHAT IS IT NOW, MAGGOT!?”  
  
Engineer flinched as he heard the angry voice of the veteran close to his right side, and he jumped, tumbled and with a loud grunt he fell into the snow beneath. Panic quickly spread, and he instantly jumped back on his feet.  
“It's just SNOW, you sissy! Stop whi--”  
“This ain't just snow, Soldier...” Engineer wheezed, and pointed straight ahead. “Look.”  
  
“Huh?” Soldier tilted his head. The wind slowly die down. Behind the thick veil of snowflakes, a vast perimeter of treeless, bushless, liveless wasteland was revealed – yet the only difference visible up close was the way the floor seemed to...sparkle beneath the thick layer of snow. Ice, a thick wall of ice.  
  
“We're on a glacier.” Engineer whispered now. He stared down on his feet, saw the small cracks that developed beneath his weight. Now, Soldier finally looked down as well, staring at the sunken spots his boots left. They exchanged an alarmed glance, and then almost simultaneously, they jumped backwards, away from the rifts in the floor. The heavy impact of boots made the ice crumble more and more, and slowly, the two men started literally dodging cracks following them.  
Engineer suddenly felt the heel of his boot banging against a solid object, he tumbled and landed back in the snow.  
“Engie!” Soldier yelled, his hand snapping for the man's collar and pulled him back on his feet again, half-dragging him along. And then, as fast as they came – the cracks stopped. Seemed like they had reached the border or the glacier, and stood on solid rock again.  
  
“N-Not that way.” Engie panted, pushing off patches of snow from his pants.   
“Not that way...” Soldier agreed with a thoughtful nod.  
  
They continued circling the glacier. It might take a few more hours until they would have reached the town they hoped to arrive at. Engineer prayed that they would get through swiftly. And that they would be back before the rest of the team would...  
Engineer didn't want to think about that option. He couldn't. The temperatures at nights sunk beneath the minus status, and he knew the engines of the train wouldn't be able to keep the compartments heated forever. He fret he would return, seeing everyone sleeping, frozen – and without repawn in the close range. He thought about that possibility even more than he thought about him and Soldier possibly dying in this seemingly endless snowstorm.   
Soldier had taken the task over to coordinate them through the compass. If Engineer trusted Soldier in anything, it was navigating. Oddly enough, while Engie would have lost himself at least twice, Soldier always had an excellent sense of navigation. Maybe that compensated with his general oblivion.  
  
“We shoulda oughta grabbed a map...” Engie growled. If there was any map that actually showed the way around the glacier.   
“We are no pilgrims, private. We may have descended from them. But we are independent. We will find our way without a map.”  
“I ain't too fond of circlin' the same glacier fer hours and noticin' we've been walkin' in circles.” Engineer griped, and wrapped his arms a bit tighter around his midsection. Icy wind constantly blew past the thick fillings of his jacket and through the fabric in his clothes. He was freezing, but at least it was bearable. Keeping warm during constant exposure to the cold however was apparently not part of the jackets features. He pulled up each and every zipper available underneath his three layers of thick garment.   
  
“We will not come off our path. We have been following the instructions clearly, two hours footmarch.”  
“Well, now that we have the glacier across...make that three hours. Maybe four...”  
“Two, Three, Four hours, what difference does it make? We take what we get and we take it like men!!” Soldier snarled, and flicked the case of the compass open to check their directions. The red needle trembled above the word 'West'.  
“Hrrm. Two hours to _Weast_ , we will make it!” Soldier said with determination.  
  
Engineer and Soldier began to take much more cautious steps now, lightly pressing their boots into the snow. Whenever the smallest cracking or crumbling sound echoed, they flinched and moved further away from the path they had walked on.  
They had continued their journey in silence mostly. Talking against the howling wind was useless anyway, the only way was shouting really loudly, even when they were walking next to each other, and Engineer did not intent to set off an avalanche. He knew they weren't around the mountains anymore,than much more  _on_ a mountain.  
  
They further crossed the edge of the glacier, fighting against the heavy storm. Engineer wondered if it was day time or evening. He looked above, but that turned out to be a mistake, as his scarf started flapping wildly into his face once his chin stopped keeping it down.  
  
It was dark, and cloudy above them. Fog wavered over their heads and thickly around them. The coldness bit through the leather of his boots and he wiggled his toes so they wouldn't freeze.   
The storm increased now. Wind became harsher and harder to breach through without holding a hand up and shield the eyes from snow covering his goggles completely.   
  
“Yer holdin' up, Sal?” Engineer called loudly through the lashing wind.  
“Roger.” Soldier replied almost instantly. Engineer breathed calmer now. For a moment he had feared he would have lost him, he couldn't see anything closer than a foot in front of him.   
“Sal, hold on a sec.” Pulling his strength together, he marched a little faster to catch up with the Soldier. His marine blue coat appeared between thick snowflakes.  
“Sal, we gotta stay together!” He called. It didn't seem the Soldier could hear him, so Engineer reached out a hand. His fingers wrapped around the thick material of Soldiers jacket.  
“Wh--?!” Soldier flinched. It didn't appear as if Soldier had noticed Engineer had been right behind him. And then, out of nowhere, his thunderous voice echoed.  
“Y-YETI!! YETI RIGHT BEHIND ME!!”  
  
Engineer jumped nearly as Soldier wheeled around and hauled the hard shell of the compass right against the frame of his goggles.  
“ _Gah!_ ” Engie gasped.  
“Engie there was a yeti attached to my jacket!!” He frantically flailed his arms towards his back. “He grabbed the back of my coat!”  
“That was me ya moron!! “ Engineer yelled back. “There ain't no yeti, goddamnit!!”  
“There was a yeti, I'm positive! The coward snow-ape attacked me from behind!!”  
  
There was a sudden small red flash breaking through the gloom, and a loud, echoing 'Bang!' that echoed over miles. Soldiers shotgun was smoking, the bullets had barely missed Engineer's head.  
“HAVE YA LOST YER DOGGONE MIND?!”  
“I SAW SOMETHING MOVE BEHIND YOU!! WHAT IF IT WAS TH--!”  
“WHY THE HELL ARE YOU SHOOTING AT ME?!” Engineer's insides cramped from the shock he just witnessed, and Soldiers yelling was silent compared to the racing heartbeat inside his eyes.  
“I SAID I SAW SOMETHING MOVING BEHIND YOU!”  
“AH TOLD YER ALREADY IT WAS ME!! AND STOP YELLIN', YE HEAR ME!?”  
“WHAT?!” Soldier yelled back.  
“AH SAID YOU OUGHTA STOP YELLIN', WE'LL SET OFF A FUCKING AVALANCHE, YOU DUMBASS!!”  
“I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!”  
“I! SAID! STOP! YE--”  
  
_**C r a c k !**   
_   
Engineer instantly fell silent, as the noise echoed over kilometers through the storm. And then, mere seconds later, the ground beneath him gave way. Engineer fell. He could hear the panicky yelp of the Soldier next to him before he realized what was happening. The sky above seemed to grow in distance...  


 

Soldier awoke. He opened his eyes so quickly, the first thing he saw was still darkness. It slowly faded from his sight like thawing ice. And a headache set in. He groaned softly, tried moving, sitting up. His body felt heavy. Heavy and shaken with pain.   
“Urgh.” Soldier growled. Somehow, he managed to end up sitting upright, leaned on his arm. Snow fell off his chest and into his lap. What happened? Had he fallen asleep in the snow? Did the Yeti knock him out? He surely felt like he had been knocked out. There was a painful throb at the left side of his brain. Something hot and wet stuck at his short hair and the side of his jaw.   
  
Soldier moved his hand beneath the helmet. There was a harsh outline in his battered helmet. He pulled his hand away and saw blood on the dark blue fabric. His conclusion was that the yeti must have punched a dent into his helmet as he had knocked him out. Besides that however, he seemed unharmed. Once again, he found, this here helmet has saved his life. People have mocked the obvious large size of the Kevlar, but if this lovely thing hasn't been on his head, he would have not awoken now. He looked around. The wind and the snow had stopped falling. In fact, there was just a low howl that echoed around him. And it looked way darker than it did before...  
Was this the Yetis den? Had he carried him all the way to his hollow to eat him later?

His blurry eyes moved around. The walls around seemed to shine in blue shades, huge pillars of solid ice. He followed the length of the wall and up above him, so far until his head started banging with pain again and his sight blurred. There was a hole between the large columns of ice. Fuzzy snow passed by, through a dark grey sky. That's where we came from, from up there. Seems like the Yeti's cave was very far down in--  
 _We.  
_  
Soldier suddenly jumped as he remembered that he wasn't, in fact, alone.  
Engineer. Where did Engineer go?  
Soldier started trashing around in the spot where he sat, trying to locate his partner.  
  
“Engie? Engie!” He called. His brain was pounding inside his skull with every movement. There was no Engie. No sign of the blue coat the man wore. No yellow glove. No hardhat...  
Soldier started moving. He moved to his side, and luckily, besides a few bruises along his thighs, he was able to move them. His head hurt like shit, yet Soldier started frantically moving around the small snow covered area they had fallen into, while calling Engineer's name.  
  
“Hardhat, where are you?!” He yelled, pressing his face into the walls of ice in case Engineer had landed somewhere else, a gorge separated by the walls.  
That's when suddenly, he heard a low groan. It echoed across from the other side of the hall of frozen snow. Soldier wheeled around. There was a small hill of snow he hadn't noticed before, an arm sticking out from beneath, which now moved. “Engie!”  
Soldier scooted over to the snowhill, fell to his knees, and started digging with his bare hands. He shoveled away the snow as fast as he could. “Stay with me private, I will get you out of there!”  
He shoveled until the blue coat was visible, and quickly took a hold of it. “I will pull you out, three, two--” He started pulling. Engineer's head appeared beneath another layer of snow, hanging low, moving only slightly. “S-Soldier...?”  
  
“You better stay with me, you piece of garbage.” he growled as he took hold of the mans armpits, jerking the mans body out of the snow. Suddenly, the man started wincing badly in his grip and yelled out in pain.  
 _“Aargh!!”_  
“Wh-What, what is--?”  
Soldier, unsure what he had done, slowly lowered the man again, raised his head to inspect him. There he saw Engineers right leg, crooked in an odd direction. Definitely not in a direction a leg should be.  
“Hnngh, m-my leg...ah think its broken...” Engineer growled between pained huffs. Soldier slowly turned the man around, Engineer whimpered as his leg was put into a different position, his head resting heavy on Soldier's collarbone.   
  
“I got you cadet, let's get you out of there.” He put his hands beneath his shoulders, and pulled the man out of the sinkhole of snow, and into a snow-sheltered area.   
“Ow, ow...” Engineer whined. He was shaking badly, not from the cold, but from the immense pain. Soldier leaned the poor man against the cold wall.   
“I'll inspect your wounds now.” Soldier declared, as he moved to the bruised leg. There was a large red spot in the dark pants the man wore. “Is there anything else that hurts you?”  
  
Engineer shook his head. Probably there were many spots that hurt inside his body right now, but none even trespassed the amount of pain in his leg. It drowned out all sort of feelings inside him. He bit his teeth harshly as Soldier began moving the fabric up his leg to expose it. The biting cold on his skin felt like a fresh breeze compared to the hot searing feeling in his flesh. He couldn't see the damage himself, but seeing as Soldier was silent for a moment, and the helmet moved a little as if the man had just leaned back again.  
  
“S-Soldier, you're bleedin'...” Engineer said, startled. Soldier, seemingly brought out of his silent staring, huffed shortly, and moved his hand to brush away the stream of blood that trickled down his jawline. He didn't say a word for a moment, then he turned around, and left, moving to one of the snow covered spots, started digging. He apparently soon acquired what he was looking for. Engineer couldn't hear what exactly he was digging for, but he did hear strange sounds echoing through the entire gorge. There wasn't any sound that certainly didn't go unnoticed, shuffling of clothes, heavy breathing, he even wouldn't be surprised if Soldier was able to hear his raging heartbeat, for it was pounding inside Engineer's ears like drums. Suddenly, a loud shrill tone bounced from the walls into his ears. He jumped in his seat, and instantly gasped from the zing of pain. Did he just hear the sound of fabric ripping? He didn't know, all he could do was watching Soldier's back as he seemed to craft whatever he had found in the snow. A few moments later, the man turned back towards the Engineer, holding something...weird in his arms.  
He knelt back down next to the texan.  
  
“S-Soldier, how bad is it?” he asked. Soldier did not answer. Engineer blinked at the man through hazy eyes, saw the large piece of the jacket he wore beneath his thick coat that was missing, shred by force...  
“Soldier talk to me!”  
  
Soldier, instead, raised his hand towards Engineer's mouth. He held something there, a sort of dark bundle, held together by a white ribbon. Were those...?  
“Bite onto it.” Soldier growled. Engineer hesitated, too long to avoid the forceful push against his lips. “Open your mouth!” Soldier demanded. Engineer did, even though he was unsure as to why, or onto what he was biting there. The object was stable and hard, and tasted oddly. It tasted like wood and cotton.  
He felt the mans grip around his shin. He still wasn't sure why Soldier had given him this to hold his jaws onto, or why he simply wasn't talking to him, or why he now took a very vice grip of his knee and his ankles, or--  
  
 _Crack!_  
Engineer's jaws contracted at instant, the object between his teeth creaked and broke partly, behind the piece of fabric, a muffled cry in agony echoed through the hall. Tears shot to his eyes almost at instant. He thought moving his leg was painful, but this, this was a goddamn nightmare of pain, as bones clicked back in place. He was shaking hard, so hard, he lost control of his muscles. He breathed hard and audibly behind the bundle his teeth still cling to with full force.   
  
“Your sissy shinbone was broken in two.” Soldier informed him, while he placed pats of fabric on the open wound, before he wrapped more stripes he had ripped from his clothes around the mans leg. He had build a splint out of branches the wind had carried down into the gorge, the same thing the bundle Engineer was biting onto was made out of. He knew this was barely the sort of treatment the Engineer would actually need, but this was all he could do.  
  
“I have set it back in place. It will heal now. No worries, private, this looks worse than it is! There is no broken bone that won't heal itself again. Try stuffing five meters of intestines back into your body, then we will...Engie...?”  
  
Engineers eyes fluttered under his eyelids. Soldier quickly pulled the bunch of small sticks out of the mans locked jaws, and saw the man, lips parted, a sigh escaping his lips, as he slowly slumped to the side. Soldier reacted as fast as he could. He caught him before his powerless body would collide with the snow again. Soldier moved him back to lean against the wall. “Private.” he muttered. Engineer didn't answer. Not even as Soldier gave him a few claps on the cheeks. He was knocked out completely, and Soldier believed, for a moment, he wouldn't wake up again. Soldier quickly removed his glove and held his hand in front of Engineer's lips. Soft damp breath brushed against his knuckles.  
Soldier growled. He was still breathing. That was good. 

 

By now, Soldier had lost count of how long he was sitting down here. It could be hours, or just minutes. Often he had tried calling out towards the small opening in the sky, for someone to hear them. He even tried climbing up the rocky ice walls to try to reach the surface. He was close, very close already, or at least he hoped. With all his powers, he clawed onto protruding rocks and iceblocks, until he slipped, and fell down back into the snow below.   
“Son of a cussing _cussword_!!” Soldier snarled angrily as he fought himself out of the snowbank for the fourth or fifth time already.  
“Don't bother, Soldierboy...”Engineer said. His voice was raspy, and he coughed a lot. Coughing seemed to hurt him as well. He cringed when he moved his body in jerks. “Ya ain't gonna make it up there.”  
  
“This scum-sucking, maggot-eating, snow-mutated traitor of a Yeti! This hairy mutt better get down here and face me like a man, I will protect any wanderer from this kidnapping coward!”  
“Soldier, how many times more ah oughta tell ya...?” Engineer sighed and pulled the jacket closer to shield his body from the cold wind. “That was no Yeti. The sound of yer shotgun---”  
“It got scared and then did the most rotten thing a man of his species can do – take the ground away from our very feet!”  
  
“Yeah...yeah, sort of that...” That's when Engineer began to cough again. Harder this time. He held his gloved hand to his mouth and tried to muffle the loud sounds he made, but even that barely helped. Soldier looked over to the injured man. He was pale. Dark rings formed beneath his eyes during the time they had spend down here. Even though Soldier had stopped the blood loss from his leg, he was still looking like a corpse that had been brought back from the dead, his handsome features were sunken in – he looked old and simply very sick.  
  
Soldier growled – and started digging through the snow. “I will start a fire.” he said.  
“A fire? Here...?” Engineer laughed weakly. “This is the deepest tundra, how would ya get a fire started here?”  
“How do you think I have survived five winters in Poland, greasemonkey?” He rumbled, and proceeded to pick up sticks he finds beneath the snow.   
  
Engineer watched with heavy eyes. He closed them, just for a minute to relax them, and as he opened them, Soldier had, somehow magically, produced a small flame on a pile of sticks, close to them in the wind-sheltered corner of the glacier. The veteran was kneeling next to him and warmed his fingers on the meek flames.   
“H-How did you...?” Engineer asked. His voice was even thinner and his coughing louder.  
“Patience is the key...” said the military man, as he continued to gently blow into the burning sticks to keep the flame alive.   
Engineer coughed again.   
“You need water.” Soldier said.   
“You do too, Sal...” Engineer smiled softly at the commando. It was somehow honorable to have him being the mans number one priority for the moment, but Soldier was also neglecting his own needs, he hadn't had any water or food for the last few hours either, and the blood on the side of his head had dried, with fresh drops trickling down sometimes.   
“But how will we acquire water in here?”  
  
“We could use your...your helmet, and put some snow in there to melt it over the fire.” Engineer suggested.  
It seemed merely mentioning the man's helmet made him flinch a little. He sunk in his spot, frozen for a moment, before he spoke angrily: “I am not going to take off my protection! This helmet has protected my head from missiles, bullets and yeti fists.”  
“Fine, then take mine.” Engineer took off his own helmet, and reached it over to the military man. He stared down at the yellow hardhat for a moment, then he muttered something beneath his breath, but took the offered object and began filling it with snow. There was an instant cold rush that brushed over Engineer's bald head. He shivered and pulled the hood of his coat over his head.  
Soldier held the helmet over the flames, and watched as it slowly thawed. It was agonizingly slowly, and judging by the coughs that came from Engineer, he was in need of it very soon.   
  
“You're still bleeding...” Engineer mumbled as he noticed another small drop of blood had dripped off the man's jawline. “Are you in pain?”  
“I need to feel this.” Soldier replied. Engineer didn't understand what he meant by that, yet before he would be able to ask, Soldier continued: “If I hadn't had my helmet on, and , in fact, if _you_ didn't have your own helmet on as well, you would be stranded in this cave with a broken leg while my head would be split in half. I have escaped death, I may have it take a taste of my undying spirit. Death can touch me, but it cannot take me.”  
This made absolutely no sense to the Engineer. But he hadn't had the energy to question it further.   
  
His eyes had begun to feel heavy again, growing old from staying open and observing the flickering flames. He felt a hand that touched his nape, lifting his head.  
“Drink.” A voice spoke. He opened his eyes again, and saw Soldier leaning over him, holding the helmet close to his lips. The texan understood almost immediately. He grabbed the helmet and began to drink. The water was still cold, but it felt good to calm the scratching in his throat. Once he had almost drank up the entire content of the helmet, he stopped, sighed deeply, and then sank back into the wall he leaned against. Soldier let go of his nape, and instead, placed his hand on the man's forehead. It was burning with fever.   
  
Soldier let out a low huff. He did not want to show the concern he felt. But he knew, the situation was becoming worse by the minute. Engineer was in no way able to move, climb, or even stay awake for more than a few seconds. He had been switching between being conscious and asleep for the last few hours ever since Soldier had brought his leg back into place.   
Soldier was aware that, if they stayed here too long, they are going to die. He may be dull to most situations – but he was a soldier. A soldier that had fought in a war, and could judge when a situation would become lethal. This here was lethal. He may actually be able to leave this cave, yet Engineer couldn't, and until he would be able, he was already starved or frozen to death. Soldier didn't know how he would be able to carry him either. Climbing without an extra twohundred pounds on his back was hard by its own.   
  
He couldn't leave Engineer behind. He couldn't. He was his teammate. His colleague. If this meant they both will die down here, then so be it.   
“Ain't that jus' pathetic of us...?” muttered the Engineer. Soldier blinked and stared down at the man next to him.   
“We promised ta be back by now, with fuel for the train too. They are gonna be stuck in the coldness, like us. What if...What if they all freeze ta death in their sleep? What if they get attacked by wolves or bears or anythin'?”  
Engineer coughed, softly. “Ah promised 'em. Ah promised Pyro and Medic, and Scout and Heavy ta be back as soon as even possible. And now we gonna be stuck here... and die too...”  
“Private, this here situation may seems forlorn, but fear not, I will get us out of here.” he said, after a while. “I too have promised the team to bring you back safely, and I will keep to that promise.”  
Engineer doesn't answer. He was fast asleep, leaning heavily against Soldiers shoulder.   
  
The two mercenaries stayed like this, for the rest of the passing time. The flames of the fire flickered over their faces and the walls, dyeing the blue walls in soft orange tones, and the shine reached the small hole in the ceiling above them. If anyone would see the shine of the fire between the heavy snowflakes falling? Who knows. Maybe there were several gracious gods up there that would send down an angel who would see the soft light in the thick heavy snowstorm and save them. There was a shift in the winds, certainly...  
  
Shortly before Soldier would fall asleep, he noticed the body next to him moving. Not moving away, not moving closer, but rather...in small jerking movements. Shivers. Engineers voice trembled between clattering teeth. He was freezing, his hands grabbing for the ends of his jacket to pull them closer to his chest, shielding his already maltreated body from the cold. Soldier noticed that too. The wind had started to make the flaps of his helmet to sway ever so slightly against his cheekbone. For a moment, he didn't react. He supposed he would grow used to the cold at some point, and then fall back asleep. But he didn't. Ague had set into the Engineer's feverish body. His muscles ached badly by how cold he felt. His eyes stung. His skin stung. Everything felt like a force was pressing his body into a shivering cube, and he wished he could pull his leg close to his body, but even so slightly turning it was hurting him. He had witnessed such sorts of pain before. On the battlefield, in the midst of a fight – the only difference was however, that he was guaranteed to die only shortly after, before he was spit out by respawn.  
The pain was dull and short. This pain lingered. And respawn was not even close to them.   
He felt like dying. He felt the worst he ever has been.  
  
An arm suddenly looped around his shoulder. He was lightly pulled towards the Soldier's body. Engineer opened his eyes once more to blink through the blur of fever and exhaustion and see soldiers hand opening the zipper of his jacket. What was this about now, Engineer wondered, but couldn't do anything else besides watching his own body falling towards the wall of clothes that was Soldier's chest. He winced as his leg was slightly re-positioned with his new resting spot, a soft whimper escaped his lips. Then, he felt fabric beneath his palms and close to his cheek, arms naturally surrounded the object he held onto so he wouldn't fall off. Again, the sound of zippers appeared – and then, he was cocooned in soft, soothing, wonderful warmth. He blinked a few times to register where this warmth came from. Where they outside again? Were they home? In a cozy, soft bed where he would wake up from this long icy nightmare? Engineer let out a long, deep breath. He was watching this soft and warm object he held onto, and yet his brain did not register for a long time what exactly he was leaning against. Someone touched his back. Ah, was this the touch of a pretty lady that woke him up gently? Or his mother who would cheerfully put a plate of her homemade lemon pie next to his bed?  
  
There was a sudden click in his brain. No, he wasn't home, in a bed, and he was in no other company than Soldier's. Engineer flinched and let go of the man's torso he was clinging to the whole time. He wanted to get away from this, away from the man.  
“N-n..no...N...n-no, n--”  
But the large hand of the military man moved to the man's back and pressed him further into his body.   
“Stop fidgeting around, maggot.” Soldier snarled irritated. Engineer gave up eventually, at least until the last bits of energy his arms had were blown out of him; and he literally slumped back into the Soldier's chest. He breathed loudly and exhausted with his head resting on Soldier's collarbone, surrounded by the thick jacket the Soldier had closed around both of them. Was he really warming him? Had he given up his own comforts to let him rest inside his coat? He supposed that's sort of what Soldiers did for each other when it was called for acts of necessities.   
He didn't really know if he approved of this.   
  
But...  
But he was so warm, and so soft, and so cozy to lay against...  
Engineer listened to the Soldiers respiration, to the steady and soft beating of Soldier's heart. Each breath he drew lifted the Engineer up a few inches on the mans chest, and sunk back into him as he exhaled. His arms hung uselessly around the mans torso. For the first time, in the last hours trapped like two mice in a hole, Engineer felt safe, and comfortable. The low whistle of the wind above them echoed through his ears. And his nose caught a sniff of that tangy aftershave the Soldier wore. He noticed Soldier sighed at some point, softly.   
For a moment, his broken leg didn't exist. This glacier gorge didn't exist. The cold didn't exist.   
And though he still realized who he was leaning against, he would curl into the body, just to seek refuge from the coldness a little longer.

 

“Here! Over here!” The voice broke through the heavy snowqualls. The big man saw the frantic arm movements of his companion in the distance. He grunted, and marched towards the figure, heavy boots breaking through the freshly fallen snow, which had already barely covered the footprints the two have been following for the last few hours.   
It has been a whole day since they had gone missing. The staff in the train kept assuring them they would return eventually, the heavy snowstorm simply deferred their pacing. But Sniper and Scout wouldn't have it. Both of them had started going out as well, searching for them. Scout was dashing through the snow with ease, and Snipers wakeful eyes stayed alert for any movements, or any trace of the Soldier and the Engineer. Eventually Sniper found a trail of broad slots in the snow, coming from the direction they started from.   
“Oh c'mon man, we don't have time for ya ancient indian tribe techniques bollocks. We gotta get movin' a'ready.”  
“That oughta be 'em.” He rumbled, ignoring the Scout who now began jogging in circles just so his toes wouldn't freeze off.   
“What?” Scout frowned.  
“Two foot trails. 'Bout foive feet ten high, twohundred seventy pounds, hard shoework. The other 'bout foive feet foive, a lil' nimbler than the other.”  
“Ya really able ta see that through footprints?” Scout stared back at the man, but Sniper didn't answer. He shouldered his sniper rifle on his back again and started moving. “Yo, man, are ya sure those are them? I mean what if we end up lost as well? Yo, Snipes, I'm talkin' to ya.”  
“Oi'm sure.” Sniper answered. And so they continued their journey, through wind and snow, over the huge glacier that spread across the landscape. Until..

“Here! Over here!”  
Sniper quickly fought his way through the snow to catch up with the speedster. “They're down here.”   
Sniper saw what Scout meant with 'down here'. There was a huge gap in the iced floor. Huge cracks and sunken in blocks of ice stretched over yards, this being the only hole in what seemed to be the entire glacier. Sniper skidded over the ice towards the Scout, to lean over the edge of the gorge. Scout was right. Down there, next to a slowly dying flame on a fireplace, sat a pile of clothes. Curled up tightly in the shadows, sheltered by the huge walls from wind and snow. Sniper did notice the small dried puddle of blood a few meters away.   
“Yo, Engie! Engie, Egghead, are ya down there?” Scout called. The pile of clothes didn't answer. Nor moved.  
“You think they're dead...?” Scout mumbled.  
“No.” Sniper shook his head.  
“Engie, c'mon man, wake up!!”  
Nothing.  
  
“Ah crap, this isn't good. This is not good, oh crap! Oh CRAP! OH GOD WE ARE TOO LATE, WE ARE T--”  
Sniper swiftly slapped his flat hand against the speedsters head.  
“OUW!!” Scout yelped girlishly.  
“Quit blubberin' yer twitchy lil mongrel!” Sniper hissed.  
“But they are dead, Snipes, don't ya get it?! They're dead!”  
Almost on cue, suddenly, the pile of clothes down there started moving. “Look...” Sniper mumbled.  
“Is that...Soldier? What is he holdin' there?”  
The two of them leaned a bit further over the hole to see. Then, a cold shudder ran over their spines. “It's the Engineer...”  
“He's...”  
  
Pale. He was paler than the snow around them. His head was leaned against the Soldiers body, layers of fabric wrapped around him, cradled like a baby inside Soldiers coat.  
“Soldier, is he alroight?!” Sniper called.  
Soldier seemed to speak but the wind echoed too loudly. “Whot?!” Sniper called again.  
“..Eg....br...el...”  
“Christ man, speak louder!!” Scout shouted. There suddenly was a loud crack echoing behind him, so scout winced back and kept his mouth shut with his hands.  
“Le...is...brok...Hel...” Sniper understood.  
“Scout...”  
Scout didn't answer. “Scout!” Sniper looked up to the boy who still held his mouth shut.  
“Scout, run back to the others. Get Heavy here.”  
“I—what?”  
“Jus' do whot Oi say!”  
  
Scout was frozen. “Y-You want me ta go back through this effin' snow storm?!”  
“Ye the fastest of us. Get Heavy here. He gotta get them outta there.”  
“But--”  
“ _Jeremy_!!” Snipers hands flung to the frightened kids shoulders. “Oi believe in ye, alroight? Do it! Or they gonna die.”  
  
Scout hesitated, staring back at the mans face. His eyes were intensely staring back at him. “Do it.” he repeated. Scout gulped, nodded then. And then he was up on his feet again.  
“Y-yeah. Yeah, I'll get ya the Heavy here, no problem.” he quickly mumbled in feigned confidence, before he was off, running faster than he ever ran before.   
  
While he waited, Sniper carefully lowered a can of tea he had taken with him down into the gorge with a rope. Soldier took the can once it was lowered enough for him to reach for it without moving. His limbs started hurting. He was not entirely sure if he still could move his legs. Or if in fact Engie could still move his. But he was absolutely certain that Engie was not dead, not as Scout had feared. He had checked the mans pulse every hour. Carefully Soldier opened the can and poured tea into the cap.   
“Drink.” he mumbled as he held the tumbler to Engies lips. The texan winced and opened his eyes with a sigh. “Hh..wh...?” was all he could say. Yet Soldier kept holding the cup to his lips. And Engineer drank in slow sips. Warmth flooded his body so suddenly, he shivered violently, and then relaxed back into Soldiers warm body.   
  
Not even an hour later, Heavy boots roared over the floor. Heavy, Medic and Scout, both of them sitting on Heavies shoulders, reached the Sniper.  
“Dhey down here?” Heavy asked  
“Ye.” Sniper waved them over to have a look themselves. Medic and Heavy leaned over the opening.  
“Oh mein Gott...Herr Soldier! Is Engineer okay?”  
“His leg is broken, Doc.” Sniper said. “Oh gott im Himmel...” Medic ran a hand over his face. “P-Please, do not vorry. Ve vill get you out of zhere, immediately.”  
“But how?” Scout asked.  
“Heavy vill pull dhem out.” he unwrapped the rope he had put around his shoulder.   
“You can't pull zhem bozh out zhere, Heavy. Engie's leg is broken.”  
  
“Vill go down dhere.”  
“No!” Medic pressed his hands to the giants chests to keep him from going down the gorge himself. Heavy frowned.   
“N-No, we vill...We vill find an other vay, ja?”  
“Hold ye horses, Oi think Soldier is sayin' somethang...” Sniper leaned into the hole. “Vhat he say?” Heavy asked.  
“Sniper, vhat is he telling you?”  
“Pff, don't even bother, there's like, a fifty fifty chance he won't even acknowledge your presence.” Scout scoffed. But then Sniper moved back again and blinked a few times. He was silent.  “Sniper...?” Medic asked.  
“Sniper was ist los? Is Engie...?”  
“Wait wh---Engie?! Whats wrong with him?” Scout frowned.  
  
“Nothin's wrong with him, ye mongrels.” Sniper growled. “The pickle-headed drongo asked fer a ladder. He told Heavy to go first and get the Engineer up here. He will follow.”  
They barely hesitated before they started tying the ropes together to, more or less, craft a ladder out of it. Sniper was impressively swift with the task. They heaved the improvised ladder into the gorge and Heavy moved down the tied ropes, Medic, Scout and Sniper holding the rope so it wouldn't slip away. Once Heavy arrived downstairs, he instantly took the smallest member of their team, almost frozen to death.  
  
“Get him back to the train. Quickly.” Soldier asked. “And get the nurse to him.”  
“Dha.” Heavy promised, before he started climbing back up, Engineer in one of his immensely strong arms. Soldier followed. He couldn't feel most of his limbs and still forced them to work his way up the ladder to the opening. Small dark spots had started to burst around the the corners of his vision...  
  
He reached the edges right at the point, where every molecule of his strength was blown out ultimately. He felt hands grabbing and pulling at him, people talking to him, but he pushed them away.  
“Get him to the train.” Soldier growled. “Get the Medic. He must fix him up. He must. That is an order, you hear? An or... _guhh_...”  
Soldier barely felt how his body, ridden of strength and warmth, dehydrated, and hungry, collapsed with the ice floor beneath him mere seconds after he had left the cold gorge. He just noticed how his mind slipped into unconsciousness.  
  


 


	7. Straining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo uhm. I'm back! Yay!  
>  I sincerely apologize for the lack of updates for, well. Half a year. The only excuse I have really is that I have been outside my home country since summer of 2016, been mostly writing stuff on my tablet, and writers block happened. But i'm back, and i hope to update much more frequent now.
> 
> As always, this isn't beta'd, i'm not a native speaker, and there's some trigger warnings for yall, this is dealing with death. Alot. Oh yeah, also porn. Enjoy!

Strips of scenes appeared before his eyes, before vanishing back in a sea of darkness. He sometimes heard sounds, but couldn't identify them by voice, or context. It was all blurry. The minute he thought he grasped it, it left again and never came back to be revisited.  
  
Engineer was, so he believed, in respawn. Somewhere stuck between reality, and death. He knew what dying felt like. This certainly came close to it. A warm embrace that bore coldness. A cold release that brings warmth.   
He was, and he wasn't, at the same time.  
  
Engineer opened his eyes. For a moment, everything was and wasn't, too. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, even though he was very aware that he was awake. And alive.  
The biting cold around his ears and his nose and cheeks was gone. The darkness lingered.  
  
Was he still trapped in that gorge, trapped ten feet in snow and ice? Was Soldier still there?  
Was Soldier still alive at all?  
  
He felt warmth. Not the warmth that Soldier's coat had provided, no, much, much warmer, much much softer. He moved his fingers. At the moment, those were the only limbs on his body he knew he had control over. They moved over softness, curled, grabbed.   
  
Fabric. A blanket. He raised his other arm, once he gained the energy, held it in front of his face. His thick coat and gloves were gone. Instead, bandages wrapped around red, irritated skin, which slowly transitioned into dark, almost black spots. Engineer squinted confused at his own arm. Had he been burned? He couldn't remember he had been falling into a fire or any of the sort.  
  
After a longer moment of staring, and figuring out just where the hell he was, and what was going on, the puzzle pieces inside his mind slowly fell into place. His eyes moved around, observing his surrounding. He wasn't back in the gorge. He was lying on a cot, somewhere in a medical room.   
  
Gadgets were scattered all over tables and tray's and he could hear the soft buzzing of a lighting machine with x-ray pictures pinned on the wall. He squinted at the x-ray picture for a while. It had to be the Heavy. There was a Sandwich stuck horizontally inside his thick throat.  
  
Engineer blinked and continued to examine the perimeter.   
How the hell did he get in here? Where exactly was he? Where were the others?  
  
He knew, he had to be in one of the Medic's many laboratories that were installed in each base on each fighting ground. He knew he was lying down, and those band aids around his arms were for cuts and bruises he didn't realize he had until he was freed of his coat. That's when memories set in, and Engineer threw the blanket aside.His leg. It was still broken, wasn't it?

To his surprise, however, it was back in place, his pants gone, left in white boxers, some dried blood clinging to his skin. There was a huge scar stretching along his shin, a few stitches to keep the skin closed. Engineer let his head fall back into the pillow.   
All this had felt like a far away dream. Not real, but real enough for Engineer to remember the pain. And remember the coldness. And remember the feeling of desperation of knowing he would die down there.  
  
How had he survived this? How had he come back here? The small window at the wall next to him was showing no indication of any snow, or any ice. They were somewhere, at one of the many bases. But which one?  
Engineer tried to wreck his mind over it, as he heard a door open, somewhere.  
  
A voice echoing, speaking, but Engineer didn't understand it. Not until said door fell close again, and silence set in.   
“Oh! Herr Engineer, you're avake.”   
Medic. That was Medic for sure.   
  
Engineer tried to speak, but nothing but a small pathetic croak broke free from his sore throat.  
“Now, Now, Engie, don't talk. No need to talk.” Medic approached the cot and placed a blue gloved hand on the man's shoulder, leaning far over him.

Engineer stared back into the wide open, very blue eyes of the doctor. He looked exhausted; more than he usually did. His usually neatly-formed tuft of black hair hung over his brow, and his glasses a little crooked.  
“Ohh, your IV bag is empty.” The doctor mumbled. IV bag? Engineer turned his head to each side. He did notice the tall metallic frame holding a bag of fluids, but only now he realized it actually had been attached to him. His right arm which felt like it was completely immobilized a few minutes ago. Medic changed the bag with a new one, and gave an excited little breath of air when the first few drops fell into the tube.  
  
“Now, I know you have questions, ja?”  
Engineer nodded, weakly.  
  
“Yes, I zhought so already. Vell..” The medic grabbed his chair and rolled it close to the Engineer's cot. “You do remember vhat happened, do you?”  
Engineer nodded.  
  
“Zhe train, you and Soldier leaving for fuel, zhe gorge and all?”  
Engieer nodded again.  
  
“Gut. Vell, You and zhe Soldier, ve found you a few miles avay from zhe train. You have been walking into zhe wrong direction for approximately an hour, you little dummkopfs.” Medic have an amused chuckle. Seeing as Engineer furrowed his eyebrows, he cleared his throat and continued. “Err, vell, you vould have reached the town by zhen already, but...I must be fully honest, I have no clue how you two have ended up around zhat glacier.”  
  
Medic cleared his throat once more. “Yes, anyvay – Scout and Sniper ran after you to track you down, and called me and zhe Heavy for help. Ve found you – dehydrated and hungry and half-frozen to death. So, we got you out of zhere and brought you both back to zhe train. Turned out, zhe back of zhe train still had tons of gravels to fuel zhe engines, but no one had checked zhe back, since, vell, zhey vere afraid of passing Heavy's seat.” Medic chuckled.  
  
Engineer blinked slowly. Oh goodness gracious – if this was true, did this mean that Soldier and him had nearly died for absolutely nothing? Had they been walking all this way for... _nothing?_  
He should be angry. God, he should be doggone mad! He should beat up every single person that has even so _touched_ this god forsaken train, and then scrap the old rusty soupcan on wheels in a goddamn meatgrinder.  
But Engineer couldn't be mad. They have saved his life, after all. They could have left them there, and simply look for an exchange for them, back at the base.  
  
But they brought him back home.  
  
Engineer croaked another tone, and raised his hand, slowly spinning his finger.  
  
“Vhere ve are right now you ask?” Medic blinked. Engie nodded.  
“Vell, we are only a few miles avay from Saw Mill. Isn't it funny seeing zhis place vhe zhe sun is out for once?”  
Saw Mill...  
  
They were really far away from their last base. How long had he been out, he wondered. Probably more than a day. Medic left for a moment, to come back with a glass of water. Gently resting his hand beneath Engineer's head, he lifted it up to let his lips meet with the rim of the glass. Engineer drank as much as possible, and the horrible sore rasp in his throat was gone.  
“You vill be alright in no time, Herr Engineer. I have healed your leg, as far as zhat has been necessary. Herr Soldier has done a surprisingly swell job in setting your leg back into place, I must say. In my Medical opinion--”  
  
Soldier.  
 _Soldier !_  
Engineer sat up.  
  
He wheezed and croaked and growled, where is Soldier? Where is he? Is he alive?  
“Now, now, Engineer!” Medic placed his hand on the man's shoulder, and gently pushed him down into his cot again. “Hold your horses down. Ve do not vant you to break your ozher leg, do ve?” he laughed. But Engineer didn't feel like laughing at all. He had to know if Soldier was alive. And if he was alive, how he had survived.  
  
“S-Soldier...” Engineer managed to rasp.  
“Ohh, Herr Soldier? He is fine, do not vorry.”  
Okay, but _where_ is he?  
  
“He has been vith you zhe whole time down in zhat gorge, hasn't he? Oh, he really does come close to a hero, sometimes at least, doesn't he?”  
“W-Where...?” Engineer wheezed.  
“Vhere he is?” Medic asked. Engineer nodded frantically.  
  
“Oh, he's resting too, vhenever he is not pulling his IV cords out of his arm ad starts doing situps and pushups and all zhat nonsense zhat certainly does not help his healing process. I should strap him to his bed...” Medic pondered “He's right next door. Don't vorry, you vill see him, eventually. He comes to your room almost every evening.”  
He did _what_...?  
  
“He's sitting on zhe bench over zhere, sometimes he falls asleep on it too. I have asked him if he razher vanted to have his bed stand vith yours, but he refuses.” Medic shrugged.   
Engineer blinked tiredly. He would start concerning a lot more about the man, and especially why he wouldn't share a room with him, if he was going to pay him visits every night. But he was so, so tired.   
  
He slept for days he assumed, and yet, felt like his body needed more.   
Fever coursed through his veins. Hot and angry and sucking every bit of energy and consciousness right out of him. He felt like an empty shell, a vessel of hot, numbing dreams and pricking pains inside his limbs. He barely noticed his surroundings. He did notice when Medic came to change his IV bags, and informing him his arm would have to be cut off and replaced, since the dead skin tissue could leave a nasty infection. And he did notice Pyro visiting him one time, huffing in his abstruse vocabulary about what was happening around the base. Scout apparently caught a toad outside the base, which turned out to be venomous. And he saw a armadillo passing their front yard. And that he had to get better, before their next mission.  
  
Pyro had left a few candies there for Engineer, a big colorful lollipop, sour drops, butterscotch-sugarplums, all the sorts of candy that Engineer did not actually like, but he would eat it, once he would get better.  
He did get better. Slowly, but at least, he recovered. His fever stopped wreaking havoc inside his maltreated body, leaving him fresher during the day. At night, he was plagued with strange formed dreams and fever waves that left him panting and sick to his stomach.  
  
In those nights, Engineer's mind formed slowly the realization that he could have died. He could have died, so easily. And Soldier had protected him. Had set his broken bone back in place to properly heal. Had given up his own comforts for him. Had held him to share his own, treasured body heat that neither could live without. Soldier had saved his life from coldness – yet again. The first time being a little inconvenient, the second time...  
  
There was a small, naive synapse in his mind, no matter how old he had grown and how often he tried to suppress that childish idiocy – it started speaking again.  
 _This had to mean something, right? This just had to mean something._  
And alas, as that naive little voice spoke, another emotion inevitably joined.  
A small flutter.  
Hope.  
  
For what even was he hoping for? God knows. He wasn't hoping for anything besides getting back on his feet on time. He set it on that, and started ignoring whatever small idea was cooking inside the back of his mind there. And he ignored the memories of those strong arms looping around his form to hold him close and warm. And he avoided the daydreams.  
  
And then, he also noticed whenever the door would open around the evening, and close. Followed by heavy footsteps that approached his bed.   
Engineer woke up. He heard someone approach him. Medic...? No. No, this was...  
  
Soldier stood in front of his cot. He looked down at him, believing he was asleep. Soldier didn't wear his jacket, nor his shirt. In the darkness, and with one, half-opened eye, he saw the man's torso wrapped with bandages. Across his chest and tightly along his sides. There was a large one wrapped around the side of the mans skull as well, but the helmet obscured half of it.  
  
Once he noticed all this, and his weary brain spat out the information, Engineer instantly wanted to straighten himself up, ask if he was alright, if he had any broken bones, and check the mans body all over, see the damage that glacier had put onto him.  
But he couldn't. All he could do was give a soft wheezing sound. Soldier placed a hand on the man's shoulder. A soft, gentle touch, that was so out of character from someone who mercilessly kills people. And so out of character from the Soldier he knew.  
  
The hand on his shoulder gently pressed him back into the mattress, squeezed lightly, before slipping away again. Footsteps echoed, as the man left again. Engineer believed, he was going to go for the door again. But no. Soldier moved over to one of the chairs carelessly scattered aside, sitting down, the metal slightly creaking under Soldiers weight. And then, silence. Nothing but the sound of Soldier's deep respiration.  
  
What was he doing? Wasn't he going to go to his own room to sleep? Would he just stay here?   
What was he waiting for, Engineer wondered.  
  
But before he could further think about it, numbness set in again, and he fell asleep. It had to be somewhere, very early in the morning, when Engineer woke up once more. He heard sounds again. The sound of the chair creaking, footsteps. They moved past him. Stopped by his bed, for only a moment, before continuing towards the door. The door opened, and then closed. And Engineer was yet again, left alone.  
Did Soldier stay throughout the entire night at his side? Did Soldier even have a single minute of sleep? He doubted it. The chairs were small and uncomfortable, and, really, any place and any available space would be more comfy than those small tiny seats.  
What had Soldier been waiting for then, he wondered.

  
When Engineer came around, he was instantly send straight back to the front line. His fever was gone, the ache in his leg was still permanent, but endurable, and he was able to move, which was the most important part, carrying his heavy artillery to his usual sentry spots. Today's mission began at Goldrush. It was a nice little change, having to fight in ice and snow, and now fighting in baking heat. Engineer was born and raised in the heat of what his Dad used to call 'the devils armpits'.   
  
Hence, the heat was nothing Engineer bothered a lot.  
He did however hate the dust.  
  
Dust, dust everywhere. Texas was forty percent dust and the rest, at least, consisted of small grasses, horses and cattle, sometimes a palm tree, sometimes a cactus. If you were lucky, even a fully grown oak.  
Soldier wasn't looking at him. Engineer did noticed it, and tried making out an excuse to approach him and try to get his attention to him.   
  
Had he ever had the chance to actually thank the man in the first place? He couldn't remember.  
It did feel awkward and unprofessional to simply approach him like this and go 'By the way, thanks for letting me sleep in your jacket, I surely would have died if it wasn't for your what you'd probably call unmanly behavior that you surely wouldn't like to admit in front of the rest of the team.'  
  
Nah. That didn't sound right. It didn't feel right. He wanted to thank the man, one way or another, but looking desperate to try and gain his attention and probably harming his sense of superiority in the team felt like it could only end up worse than it was yet.  
  
And before he could further deliberate, the gates opened, and the team rushed out. A rainfall of missiles, bullets, and grenades greeted the team upon entering the area.  
  
BLU Sniper was instantly struck down the moment he held his head in reach of the red dot dancing around his forehead, followed by a very nasty 'BLAM' sound, and the aussie collapsed with a gurgle.  
Heavy and Medic ignored whatever warnings were murmured around their team to stay behind covers to dodge the snipers rifle, and rushed out, pressing their backs to the back of the cart, and pushed. Rusty, screeching wheels began moving, sliding across the tracks at an alarmingly slow pace.  
  
Scout rushed past the engineer, followed by Soldier's rocket striking against the wall and catapulting him up into the skies. Scout dodged, jumped, shot, hit the enemy's demo, dropped a comment along the lines of “Beat it, creep!” And send the cart twice as fast down its tracks.  
  
Engineer rushed out as well. He set his sentry up, guarded by the team slowly beginning to push their way free, setting up his sentry.   
Yet, as always, Engineer found himself at the very back of his team, as the rest had moved further away from Engie's sentry spot. The texan growled. It was the same, again and again, and it stressed him immensely. This was one of the reasons he really hated pushing the cart.   
  
For once, he tend to have a foot placed on the tracks without noticing too quickly, and the cart rolled over his boot. And he usually ended up falling into the pit of dynamites whenever he actually pushed and helped along, ending up being the only person that was not fast enough to let go of the cart and then run off to be spared by the following explosion.   
  
Or, which was his bigger problem – his sentry was always at the wrong place at the wrong time. He couldn't catch up. Or it was in direct open space to be shot down or sapped.  
And, as Engineer already expected, that was the case today as well. The cart was pushed towards the small passage inside a foundation of wood and cement. From right and left, the RED's appeared to shoot whoever even so dared to come close to the cart. Engineer saved himself and his packed-up sentry behind the wall of concrete wood. He watched as the rest of his team followed up, slowly, Demoman being able to hide right next to him.   
  
And from above, a figure landed straight next to the Engineer. The texan flinched so hard, he nearly dropped his toolbox, believing a venturous RED had escaped from behind the battlefront BLU had created to strike a defenseless little Engineer like himself down when he was most vulnerable – But no.  
  
“ _Maggot_!” A familiar raucous voice growled. “We are in the minority. Those RED bastards think they can shoot down MY army?!”  
Soldier was heaving with heat, sweat and adrenaline. He had landed so close to him, his chest nearly pressed the texan flat against the wall, and Engineer could not help but feel ideas flowing into his mind, one's of the sudden, and very inappropriate ones. His eyes were fixed on him, watching muscles strain and move under that taut blue coat, saw the spots of sweat around his exposed collar of his shirt, his large torso expanding and lowering again and making the buttons creak with how deep and hard he was breathing.  
  
Engineer's throat felt so dry, he had to gulp – twice.  
  
“WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT, RODEO CLOWN?!” The Soldier bellowed after a short moment. “Deploy a sentry here! Dispenser here! Pick your frilly daisies later, AND GET YOUR SORRY ASS TO WORK!”  
This time, Engineer flinched enough to drop his toolbox, and the sentry started opening up. Not necessarily where Engineer had intended for his equipment to land, but either way, it was either in a secured area like this, or right at the front line – and seeing how the other teammates were mowed down in great numbers by enemies, that was the only option for now. Soldier had left, without Engie even noticing.   
  
He did search the surroundings, and the sky above – but quickly remembered again what Soldier had said. No time for picking flowers, time to kick some asses !  
He set the sentry up, immediately followed by its alerted bleeping and the sound of bullets being hauled into someones body. A cry erupted, and Engineer was not quite sure who he just shot, sure was, however, that his sentry had taken damage. Small bullets, shrapnel, whatever came its way outside from behind the cart, his sentry was hit, minimally, yet it lead the texan to abandon his slowly erecting dispenser to rush over to his sentry.   
  
Heavy and Medic were still up and pressing themselves against the wall opposite of Engineer, waiting for the ubercharge to build up.   
“How much longer, Doktor?” Heavy bellowed.  
“Not much longer!” The doctor called back, leaning into the hallway –  
  
 _ **Blam!  
**_  
 _“Guaargh!!”_   
  
Engineer flinched at the sound coming from the german. Shotgun shells blasted past the Engineers face, searing hot, and nearly missing the tip of his nose. Medic was holding the bleeding stump that once might have been his arm.  
“Doktor!!” Heavy cried out in panic. Blood gushed onto the dust and the german whimpered, pressing hard against the wall. He had dropped the medigun. And Enginer could hear heavy foot steps echoing through the corridor, a similar voice with heavy german accent calling “I am fully charged!”  
  
RED's Heavy was approaching. And they had their uber ready.  
  
Quick-witted, Engineer rushed over to his dispenser construction, jabbed his hand into the slot.  
“Heavy!” he called. “Catch!”  
  
Engineer leaned back, hauling his arm forwards. Through the air, past flying bullets and drops of blood, a sandvich tumbled through the air. A slice of tomato sadly slipped from between the two slices of bread, and landed straight in the eye of the enemy's demo, who just had the courage to rush outside and into their frontline. The scotsman staggered back in confusion over being now completely blind, before Engineers sentry blew him into smithereens.  
Heavy caught the sandvich with his massive hand. “Engineer ees credit to team!” he cheered.   
  
Engineer tipped his hardhat.  
  
Once Medic took a generous bite, his arm instantly grew back into its original form, with clothes and glove and everything, the doctor picked up his medigun, and held it back onto his russian partner.  
“I am fully charged.” RED Medic's voice echoed from behind the cart.  
“I am charged!” BLU Medic added.  
  
“They're comin'!” Engineer called, one hand at his helmet as he quickly hid behind the sentry.  
And then, both Heavy's collided. One coated in a glowing blue shine, the other in a searing hot shimmer.  
“ _Grryaaah_!” both Heavies bellowed, so loud the ground beneath Engineer was shaking. Bullets spew in all four directions, fumes slid past the Heavies clenched teeth and into the air.  
  
BLU used that momentum, and broke a way through them, past their defenses, and into their base, Pushing the cart simultaneously. The moment the RED Medics ubercharge dropped, BLU Spy appeared from thin air, ramming his knife first into the germans back, then into the Heavy's. For once, Engineer was glad Spies existed. Especially theirs.  
  
Now that they finally had control over the situation again, they gradually pushed their way into the large yard, guarded by sentries and stickybombs.   
Engineer, as always, was left behind as the last, quickly gathering his dispenser and Sentry, trying to carry both on each shoulder without falling back too much.   
  
The bomb slid through the gates of the narrowed hallway – the remains of the RED team already awaited them. A sentry fired, as soon as Heavy's egg-head poked behind the hardwood walls. Growling in pain, Heavy retreated back and, with bare hands, pulled a searing hot bulled out of his forehead. That man's skull was thicker than granite.   
  
“Ah crap, what we gonna do now?” Scout whined. Sniper pushed past, pressed his scope to his face, shot – and missed. “Piss!” he hissed, and quickly rolled towards the security of the other wall, as stickybombs were launched and exploded at the exact spot where the aussie stood only seconds ago.  
“Ouh, this is nawt good.” Demo muttered.   
  
Engineer would have contributed with his own distressed sounds, but he was very busy putting up the teleporter at a new location.  
Something wasn't right. Usually, the teleporter took, depending on the upgrades it received, a little less than a few seconds to bring someone from a to b. His current one, however, stopped rotating in between, means, no one could enter. Those that did finally enter looked immensely pissed.   
  
“An issue with the teleport traffic, labourer?” Spy hissed.  
“Ah dunno. Seems like it's malfunctionin'. Ah never had that issue.”   
  
Spy, seeing as the current situation wouldn't allow him to step outside anyway, since their gate was spammed with sticky bombs, he crouched next to the engineer. “No sappeur.” he muttered.  
“Ah know this ain't no sapper's work.” Engie furiously clanked his wrench into the metal, until it showed a angry dent. Pyro, finally emerged, and tumbled out from the platform with a startle squeak. Obviously, the sudden transportation came rather unexpected to the firebug.  
  
“Ah hell, sorry Pyro. Teleporter's actin' weird.” he apologized.  
“Mhhph!” he wheezed at the two with anger, and then turned again to join the team. Engineer noticed something odd, there at he back of Pyro's head.  
  
“What in tarnation...? Ya seein' this too?” He looked to the spy, who indeed, noticed the strange green lump on the back of the Pyro's neck. Not beneath the mask, but straight on top, and Pyro would scratch at it sometimes. “Looks like the boy's comin' down with some sort of infection.” Engineer muttered.  
  
“I really do not believe we 'ave ze time to worry about such at ze moment.” the french muttered, as he watched Scout trying to slip past the enemy's line, after taking a sip from his bonk. He did manage to slip past the sentry with a glorious 'Can't hit what ain't there, pal!' but the large, strong hand of the enemy's soldier closed around the boy's neck behind the next corner – the exact moment the bonk lost its power – and with a sadistic grin on the madman's face, broke the boy's neck with a loud, disgusting 'crack' and a satisfied “Huttah!” echoing across the field. The speedster slipped from his grip, but Soldier wasn't done with him, not by far, starting to grab his shovel and –  
  
Now, he was sure their Soldier was batshit crazy. Lovable, still crazy. But there was no way he would ever exchange him with the red-clothed psychopath across from them, who started digging the blade of his shovel into the boy's neck until his head was separated with a sickening crunching noise, and held it up into the air by the scalp like a trophy.  
  
And indeed – it had to be a battlecry. For only moments later, the entire RED Team, respawned, and overhealed, stormed at the small gateway the BLU had gathered in.  
The battle imploded so fast, it took Engineer several seconds to realize what was going on. The sudden pain of a thin, burning bullet piercing into his arm woke him up, and he realized, he was standing right in the line of fire of his own sentrygun, he jumped aside immediately, and instead, kept his construction up.   
  
In the heat of the moment, and with a gust of sense left, Demo and Sniper slipped on the floor, hid behind the cart. It moved. And Sniper and Demo saw their chance, using the cart as their own shield to progress further.  
Bullets and bombshells spew into their direction, hit the hard shell of the bomb inside the vehicle.  
“Stop shooting the cart you maggot!!” RED Soldier yelled and smacked the RED Demo upside down. “You will blow it up right in our center! Scatter!! Grab them from behind! KILL THEM IN THE NAME OF GEORGE WASHINGTON!” he spat.  
“Yes sir!” the enemy   
Demo shouted, obedient to his every word and instantly began circling the cart to lay stickies. Engineer hadn't realized the hot wall of muscles that pressed harshly into his own shoulder. He flinched, looked behind and –  
  
“This scum-sucking mutant of an insect,” the voice hissed, words dripping like venom from his split, dirt-covered lips, brushing past Engineer's neck. The texan shuddered involuntarily. “Gives out orders?! LIKE A DAMN SEARGANT?! _I_ AM THE SEARGANT HERE!!”  
  
And with that, Soldier squeezed past the wall of bodies that Heavy, Medic and Pyro formed to press further into enemy lines, into the chaos of bullets and rockets. Engineer called for him to come back, but to no avail – Soldier practically launched himself into the battle.  
  
The cart proceeded to move along the rails, towards the last point. They still had time, Engineer reminded himself, Still time. He had to move his equipment, now.  
Packing up dispenser and Sentry, he ran into a secured corner, behind the wooden tower, right at the enemy's vulnerable, unprotected side. The sentry set up, instantly, it shot down unaware RED's, while Engineer hurried to get his teleporter. He knew his sentry was in a sensitive place, guaranteed to be sapped or blown down, but so be it, the teleporter was more important. Then, his PDA began frantically blinking.  
  
“Spy's sappin' mah telepor – What in the heaven's –?!”  
  
He had rounded the corner. Indeed. There was the RED Spy. Obviously disguised, he had used the teleporter to sneak up from behind – but there was something awfully wrong with him. Green lumps, blisters all across the man's face and suit. The Spy frantically scratched at them, hoping it would ease the pain and itch, he screamed and squealed. “ _Au secours! Aidez moi!_!”  
  
Yeah, Engineer helped him alright – pulled his shotgun and send a salve into the spy's skull, brain splattered into the walls and the body slumped to the floor. Engineer shuffled to him, staring down at the damage.  
  
What in sam's hill was that? It looked the same as the lump Pyro had on his back. Jut much, much worse.  
Engineer, in a quick decision, discarded the teleporter. Obviously, something was not right at all.   
He had no idea how they actually managed to win. The cart clicked in place, there was a loud bleeping, and –  
  
 _KA-WOOSH!!  
_  
The explosion ripped the floor apart, and RED's, and BLU's as well, were launched in all directions. Engineer stared, and for a long time, he simply watched the aftermath slowly unfolding. RED's flew. BLU's following, killing whoever come into their grip. His sentry down. His dispenser way too far behind to be of any use. His teleporter bugged.  
He felt unaccomplished. Felt as if he had contributed absolutely nothing.  
  
This was the reason he absolutely despised payload maps, unless he was the one guarding it, and may he say, he did a damn bloody well job at it. But this – carrying his sentry around, no chance to settle for once, always on the run, and an enemies' Spy at his ankles. He tripped and dropped his equipment at the worst places, his hard work was torn down with a single well-set rocket, his back was basically beckoning the Spy's attention, and nearly every time, he was yelled at for not taking care of the teleporter – it was excruciatingly bothersome.  
  
It was no wonder that it was usually the Engineer, who left the battlefield with a very static energy that would uncoil on everyone who dared to criticize him. He, of course, apologized afterwards. But most of the team had learned to give the texan a break, each time they would decamp.  
And so, after pushing the cart into the pit, sending RED's, and themselves into a small rain of guts and blood, and slaughtering every remaining RED afterwards, claiming Gold Rush as their conquered territory, BLU was readying themselves for the pick-up.   
  
Engineer picked up the remains of his destroyed sentry with a deep sigh.   
Sometimes he wondered if he was simply getting too old, slow, and weak for this job. He got more and more attached to his machinery, no matter how often he found them tore down. Usually, after battle, he would collect a few parts of his machinery to recycle and use them again the next time he build his equipment.   
  
“No zhat vas fun, vasn't it, my hard-working friend?” Medic's voice asked. Engineer flinched slightly, but looked up to his friend. Medic's huge smirk slowly faltered as he saw the strange look on Engie's face. “Herr Dell, is everyzhing alright? You look concerned. Well – more concerned zhan usually.”  
  
Should he tell him? Well, technically, Medic had been the co-worker on his machinery ever since they worked together, and this seemed something only a doctor could comprehend and put a name on.   
  
“Doc, ah oughta show ya somethin'.” He led the german towards the end of the gateway. There was still RED Spy's corpse, which would soon be picked up by respawn. But until then, they had time to examine him. “See, mah teleporter's been actin' weird today, and that wasn't the work of a sapper. Looked like a slack joint? Y'know, defective contact.” Medic nodded once understanding.  
“And well, the snake here came through. Jus' look at that poor bastard.” Engineer nudged the man's body around with the sole of his shoe. Whatever was left of the french's head, it was covered in bright green lumps.   
  
Medic leaned down. Adjusted his glasses. Gave an interested humming noise.  
  
“What'cha thinkin', doc?”  
“Vell.” Medic leaned back into a straight position. “Ve should take zhis one back home. I have a theory. But ve vill have to prove it.” he took a firm hold on Engineer's shoulder. “Mein Freund, it's time to practice medicine... and _science!_ Ve vill need your teleporter, lots of clipboards – and bread!”  
  


* * *

 

If Engineer, or Medic would have known the actual reason for this chaos, neither would have been so cheerful as they were at the beginning. They teleported bread. Nothing happened. They teleported again. Nothing happened. Engineer was confused at first as to how this was possible, seeing that he had clearly witnessed the enemy's Spy writhing in pain, just moments after leaving the teleporter.  
And then, at the third piece of bread -

“How long before zhese tumors kill us?” Spy inquired. Engineer felt a lump, thick in his throat and didn't answer. Luckily, he didn't have to. Medic began rambling down a few statistics.  
“Let's see, we use zhe teleporter, let's say, six times per day. Times four years, Minus, we're not bread...”  
And then he turned to the group of confused, startled, devastated mercenaries.  
“Zhree days. Yes. Ve all have tree days to live!”  
  
Not really three days anymore by this time; At least sixty-eight hours left.   
Three days weren't much. Heck, in fact, it was practically nothing. His life, compared to those last sixty-eight hours, suddenly became small. Small and petty. How often had he complained he was growing old and weak, already living too long on this rotten planet – and suddenly, he had only limited time left. Engineer tried not to let this come between his work. He had to figure a way out of this. This was new. In the last ten years of his work, he had never encountered something like this. There had to be an explanation for this, he just had to find it, and he had to find it quick.  
  
Engineer leaned over his working table, either alone, or with Medic helping along. Calculations, tests, more calculations, theories and adducing reasons and arguments, and then more tests, and so on and so on; stretched over hours. Engineer didn't sleep, but that was hardly a bother to the man anymore. He had survived many days without sleep, with constant work and loads of cups of coffee. Sleep deprivation was still only a small problem, compared to the one ahead of them. Forty hours or so were left. Engineer stopped checking the deathwatch on his wrist. It was too distracting.  
  
It kept reminding the longer he started, the faster the seconds would pass, until minutes were gone. And then Hours. And then a whole day, one Engineer spend with his elbow deep in work. Medic, despite not sleeping a single minute either, looked much much better than him. He was surprised how easy the physician reacted to his certain death. Engineer wasn't sure if talking about such things during working hours was inappropriate, so he casually implied something, about what he believed would come after death and so on. Tedious theories he didn't even believe in since it defied all reasons and all logic of science.   
  
And like him, Medic was a man of science. So the answer he received after asking him how he was so calm in this dire situation, Medic curled his lips slightly. “See, my hard-hatted friend; I know a certain someone down in hell...” He snickered a little, and began flicking with a pen over his knuckles. Engineer didn't understand entirely, though, seeing as Medic's grin was edging towards manic almost, he didn't ask further. Though, he trusted the man to have his reasons to be calm. In fact Engineer should take a leaf out of his book.   
  
There was someone else who was awfully calm about the due date – and it was Soldier. Engineer, advised to take a break after he fell asleep on top of the coffee-table, strolled along towards his room and take a nap. That's when he noticed Soldier was sitting in the hallway. A teleporter in front of him, he was shoving loafs of bread into the entrance, which then popped back up on the other side of the room. Engineer didn't understand how this man was just wasting the last few minutes of his life, doing nothing but this. He wasn't making calls, like Sniper had done. He wasn't writing his testament like Demo, or tried fulfilling his dying wish, like Scout did.   
  
He was just sitting there. Doing what he liked to do most.  
Teleporting bread.

Engineer couldn't tell why, probably the lack of sleep, but he felt immense remorse, watching him sitting there, and giving a gruff giggle whenever bread tumbled out of the teleporter exit. The bucket in his arm, he shoved pretzels, toast, buns and cinnamon rolls from one side to the other.  
  
“Hey, Solly.” Engineer greeted. His voice sounded awfully thin and soft, like he was talking to a child rather than three-hundred pounds pure anger and muscles. Soldier flinched, and looked over his shoulder. The giggles were gone. He looked stern. Engineer was almost glad to see anything besides casualty on his face, but on the other hand, he feared he was not welcomed in whatever strange last-hours-ritual Soldier was currently engaged in.  
Engineer carefully approached.  
  
“So uhm.” he coughed. “Teleportin' bread, ah see?”  
“Affirmative.” Soldier said. Engineer sat down. Crosslegged, like Soldier, and watched as the army man placed a wholemeal bread on the glowing blue teleporter. It popped up, seconds later, on the other side of the room. Covered in green tumors. Engineer gulped heavily. It seemed Soldier was beginning to place bread more carefully onto the teleporter, now that he had an audience. More precise and adjusting it further, until he let it slip away.   
  
“I have done nothing but teleport bread the entire day.”  
“That's...nice, Soldier.” Engineer grinned, forcefully. He wanted to yell at him, and keep him safe at the same time. Wanted to smack him and yell to wake up, do something, anything to enjoy the last hours of his goddamn life he had. Was it really not worth this? Because Engineer's was. But instead, he worked to find a solution. And Soldier just...sat there, on his own. Gleefully watching bread popping up in various places.  
  
And yet on the other side Engineer wanted to wrap himself around Soldier and comfort him, tell him it's going to be alright. That's what Soldier had done for him in a situation where they knew they would be dead by sunlight.   
So, Engineer placed a hand on Soldier's shoulder. Soldier stiffened. Stared at him; angrily? No. Confused? Not really. Apprehensive, yes. He actually flinched just the tiniest bit.  
“How you feelin'?” He asked after a moment. “You holdin' up?”  
“What gave you the impression I didn't, greasemonkey?” He hissed.

“Well, ah, jus' askin'. We got about twenty hours left, not even a day.”  
“I am aware of the time, hardhat. I, too, have a deathwatch.” he held up his wrist, the deathwatch strapped around his left arm.   
  
Engineer nodded. “So ah noticed.”  
A pause, neither spoke, but Engineer watched the man tending back to the task he found most important, and that was teleporting goods to the other room and back.  
  
“Now, this is...somethin' _new_ , eh?”  
Soldier paused and looked at him. “What is new?” he asked.  
“The, uh, the thing with the tumors. Dyin', yknow? Ah mean - We been close ta death on a daily base, ain't we? And now, well, now it's the real deal.”  
  
Soldier gave a grunt, fishing another loaf of bread from his newly acquired bucket and slipped it into the glowing blue lights. It tumbled to the floor, ten feet away from them.  
“Ya oughta think, yknow? Bout what could have happened. What's gonna come and so on.” he hoped he would be greeted with realization from Soldiers side. But no - Not even a budge. So he went further. “Some folks get scared of that, y'see?”  
“I do not condone such trivial things, hardhat!” Soldier shoved a bagel into the teleporter. “If I have to, I will stare death in the eye and give that flimsy son-of-a-bitch a taste of undying american spirit.”

Engineer sat still. Not answering that string of incoherent thoughts coming from Soldier's mouth. Maybe he was truly not afraid of death. Like the rest of the team seemed to be. Maybe, he simply hid it well, so well, not even a single wrinkle on the man's face strained.   
  
Or, which Engineer found to be most plausible – Soldier did not understand the gravity of the situation. For some reason Engineer envied that. Ignorance is bliss, after all.  
  
“Ah remember ya once told me death ain't touchin' ya.” He said, absentmindedly, and his thoughts trailed back to the icy pit, blood pooling down the man's temple, and the following collapse the man endured due to the grave concussion. He knew about this, since Medic had told him. Of course, nothing he would not have been able to fix, but the sheer amount of power this man seemed to have to overcome such a thing as a full-force blow to the head, and still be able to care for his mate and keep a clearer head than Engineer himself – it was a miracle.  
  
Or, maybe; the bit amount of brain Soldier still had, was damaged enough as it is, and a fractured brain surely felt like a simple headache.  
“Death can touch me, and now, if it is inevitably, death shall take me – if that slim bastard dares to!”

Engineer didn't respond again. Caught in thoughts, he watched cinnamon rolls pop up on the other side of the hallway.  
Something told him that he shouldn't leave Soldier alone for the next few twenty hours of their lives. True, if Soldier wanted to spend like this, he wouldn't pry, and instead, perhaps, worry about more important things.  
But for some stupid reason, Engineer would rather have him in the company of anybody. Nobody in the team would be willing to put up with him, he was sure about that. So, he was left, as the only person willing to gently squeeze the man's shoulder, give a fond smile, and then tell him: “Say, could ah interest you in a cold beer and cigar at mah workshop after lights out?”

Soldier stopped staring at the teleporter, and looked up to the texan.   
  
“Ah still have a crate of Blu-Streak bear and well, would be a shame if'n ah let it go to waste when ah'm...dead.” he actually hesitated speaking out that word. “Jus' for, you know – for old times sake.”  
Soldier made a thoughtful growl and placed the bucket aside. “I shall arrive at your workshop then, at 2000 hour, approximately.”  
  
“Great.” Engineer nodded with a forced, toothy grin. “Well, ah'm leavin' ya to it then. See ya later...” He gave Soldier a friendly pat on the shoulder and got back up on his feet, moving to his room.  
And, instantly, every bit of energy he had kept up until this point left his body so suddenly, Engineer actually grabbed the wooden column of the staircase to keep his balance.  
  
He was sleep-deprived. He was probably running low on nourishment but he couldn't bring himself to eat anything. Suddenly, the idea of skipping work and sleeping, just for an hour, or maybe two, was tempting. So tempting that Engineer actually, automatically, moved over to the mattress lying on the ground. He stopped, and shook his head like a drenched dog. No, he couldn't sleep. He still had to find the cause of this malfunction in his gadgets. He was the one who put all of this on his teammates, he had to set it right again.  
  
He forced himself not to head to the bed, but straight back to his desk, to the large stack of paperwork, to the blueprints and scrap metal and the teleporter he had to disassemble and –  
Engineer made it half way across the room. He collapsed, luckily, landing softly on the couch instead of the hard concrete floor.   
  
Wait. No. NO!  
He couldn't sleep. Not now! He had to return to his work, right away! With a huff, he pushed himself off of the couch, and shuffled towards his desk, his hardhat put aside and his goggles pulled down around his neck. His vision was swimming for a few moments until the focused again.   
  
Blueprints. Right. He remembered. He looked outside the tiny basement window and saw the sun as setting. He had to hurry. His head felt cotton-stuffed but he couldn't skip work. “C'mon Conagher.” he said, fished for his pen, the cold and tasteless cup of coffee he left there last time he as in his room, took a huge gulp. “Concentrate.”  
  
Where was he? Right. Medic and him had completely disassembled the teleporter he had used on the battlefield and found nothing, besides a few screws loose and some minor scratches along the casing. Then that mean it had to be somehow related to the teleportation itself –  
 _I'm hungry._  
Engineer shook his head. You can eat later, he told himself, and continued.  
  
Creating a wormhole inside the construction wasn't that hard, but in order to find tumors in your body – Engineer knew how different universes worked, and perhaps, he wondered, this said wormhole was somehow connected to a timeline where his entire team had tumors to begin with. He knew the mercenary that stepped into the teleporter was not the same mercenary that appeared on the exit side. However, there had never been an issue with –  
 _I'm so tired.  
_  
Engineer rubbed over his head, his sandy hair rasping against the yellow glove. So, a different timeline, he recollected. Teleporters were able to pick up different timelines by codes that changed gradually. Maybe the one he currently had was …  
No. This was not possible either. This timeline had to have gotten those tumors from _somewhere_ as well. You don't just develop metastasizing tumors all over your body, not this many, and not in such rapid velocity.   
He checked the counter, nevertheless, and found it working with practically no issue at all. Which means, he was back where he started.  
 _I still have that blueprint Medic handed me._

Engineer stopped rubbing at his heavy eyes. He looked over to the pile of old scraps and spare blueprints. He shouldn't. He wasn't allowed to get distracted. In less than fourteen hours, he would be dead. And he still had no results.   
But – oh hell. If he was going to die, he wouldn't, without at least having a look at it. He pulled it from the stack and placed it on the desk, spreading it out and smoothing it down with his flat palm.  
  
It was a design for a sentry that was small, and handy. It was tiny, compared to a level one sentry gun, with red and white checkers on the casing, and a red spinning light on the top. Sniper had handed him the blueprints he 'borrowed' from Saxton Hales office, after another unsuccessful match.  
  
“Oi, trucky!” he had caught up with the engineer, and had pressed a blue roll into his hand. “Don't tell the mustache man – but oi figured ye would loike ta take a look at that.”  
Engineer had been immensely grateful, he studied the construction plans and circuit boards. The sentry would be only half of the usual resources he needed. He could easily pick it up,carry around, and wouldn't have to be on absolute alert whenever he set up his upgraded construction. He could finally catch up with the others, effortlessly.   
  
“Well, sometimes you just need a lil' less gun, eh?” he had joked and laughed. “Snipes, this is amazing! Looks like ah'm not gonna be stayin' behind from now on, eh?”  
  
“Yeah, err - ...” Sniper tugged nervously at his collar. “Ye should read the, uh – mouseprint too.”  
  
The 'mouseprint' turned out to be a warning message at the far top corner. The sentry was too fragile for the usual wrench. Which means, he had to use a different tool.   
He gulped, as he read the instructions in the right corner.   
  
“The amputation of the hand starts by cutting off all blood circulations. First, the layers of skin and muscles are separated from the bone. – Consult your local medic for the procedure, and do not, at any circumstances, try said steps without the supervision of a physician ( with or without a medical license).“  
  
Engineer couldn't read further than that. The fact that this blueprints very first step was requiring to have his very own hand removed – that was something Engineer would have to digest before he could actually resume thinking about even considering bringing this to life.  
  
On the other hand...  
RED must be informed about this too. That this blueprint exists. Otherwise, Engineer would have been long kicked out of the team. The Administrator knows when something strictly forbidden or secret was falling into the wrong hands. And he is still here, after all.  
Had RED Engineer already pulled through with this plan? Had he recklessly chopped off his own hand in order to install the so called 'Gunslinger' on his bleeding, boneless stump? He probably did. He was always a wreckless son of a bitch. Thinking about this, even if it was a RED, turns his stomach. It had been in his favors that Medic was not impressed by this blueprint, at all, and rigorously demurring at helping Engineer to remove his limb.   
  
“Mein Freund, I am alvays interested in zhe terribly morbid pleasures of amputations. But ve are talking about permanent damage.”  
And he is right. Permanently loosing his hand, replacing it with a metallic, unfeeling robotic limb...  
  
But alas, Engineer was born with a natural interest that wanted to know the ' what if' in everything, even dangerous situations.  
And now, what does it matter? He could construct that robotic hand in less than an hour, even with only one hand. And his hours were numbered. He knows he wouldn't rest well, if he didn't at least try it.   
  
He lost limbs all the time – it would hurt, but...  
The things he would do for those last few moments of science were golden. It must have been his caffeine and sleep-deprived mind that drove him down this road. His body was twelve steps ahead of his mind, as his hand reaches for one of Scout's cleavers hanging on the wall across from him.   
  
He strips off his glove. That's where slowly this pesky little voice in the back of his mind started becoming frantic, and panicky. But somehow, he lost control of what he was doing. He just did it. And he didn't know how to stop himself, as he places his right arm in position. His other slowly lifting the cleaver into the air. It had to be a clean cut, so he would have to throw it down with a lot of force. He craned his arm back until he nearly touched his back.   
  
_Pow, pow, pow_ , the door trembled with every heavy knock on the door. Engineer flinched.   
  
It felt like all bit of his consciousness came back to the shell of his body. He stopped, his arm slowly lowering the cleaver. Who the hell was this now, he wondered? Didn't they know he was _busy?_ Grunting, he hauls the cleaver into the desk, and it sunk deep into the wood, trembling from the impact as Engineer heaves himself up the small staircase and to the door. For a moment, he was a little surprised to see Soldier standing there. _  
_  
He straightened, chest out, clicking the heels of his boots together. “Engie.” he said.  
“Sal.” He nodded. “Uh, can ah help y--?”  
“It is approximately 2000 hours.” Soldier interrupted him. “I've come to report for debriefing.”  
“Debr-- oh!” Engineer slapped his hand to his forehead. “It's eight alright, isn't it?” he peered to the clock. It was indeed. “Gosh, yes, come in then, Soldier-boy.” he quickly closed the door after the commando stepped down the stairs, and he followed.  
  
Obviously, Soldier stopped and started looking around. He couldn't truly remember the last time Soldier actually had ever come down into his workshop. A few times, to deliver a malfunctioning weapon or to excitedly knock on every door on every important american holiday morning.   
But usually, only Medic had stayed down here longer than a few moments, and he started soaking everything in.  
  
“Ah'm very sorry, must have forgotten the time. Heh.” he grinned sheepishly. “Uh, make yerself at home, Sal. Ya can take off yer jacket if ya wish. Oh, uh, ah'm apologizin' fer the mess. Ah'm a lil' scatterbrained today, ah must confess.”  
“Negatory.” Soldier said after a while. “Do not apologize. NEVER apologize for manifesting your hard labor.”  
  
Engineer couldn't help but grin softly. “Ah, jus', yknow … tryin' ta fix some things.”  
“What is this?” Soldier, with the attention-span of a five year old, ignored him, and marched over to the drafting table, instantly picking up the stack of blueprints.   
  
“Ah, uh those are, err.”  
  
“I see you are working on new inventions?” he asked.   
  
“Well, sorta.” Engineer quickly followed the sergeant, apprehensive that the man could scatter important documents. “This is jus' uh, well, ah'm still tryin' ta fix the teleporter, yknow.”  
Soldier lowered the blueprints, like it was too valuable to be touched. At least he registered that this was important work, some he should not be toying with. “Roger that.” he said gruffly, hands at his back. “Engineer, if my presence is hindering you from accomplishing your works--”  
  
“Oh, nah, nah, no worries, Solly.” Engineer chuckled, bending down to open the small fridge, and pulling out a crate of beer. “Been strugglin' ta concentrate the last few hours anyway. Guess takin' a break fer now should be alright.” he passed the beer to the Soldier. “There ya go, Sal. Fresh n' icecold. By the way, glad ya made it, would have been a waste ta see this beer, well, not bein' drunken after we, eh – Die. Now, hol' up a sec, where did ah take that bottle opener...?”

_CRASH!  
_   
Engineer flinched so hard he nearly dropped the rest of the crate. He wheeled around, and spotted Soldier, grimacing as he stared down at the broken throat of the bottle in his hand. He had simply smashed the neck at the table to open it.  
“Dagnabbit dammit, Sal!” Engineer breathed. “Yer givin' me an early death.”  
“An early what?” Soldier lifted the broken bottle to his mouth.  
  
“Sal, no!” Engineer quickly grabbed the man's arm, and Soldier flinched back. “This is _MY_ bottle!” he growled.  
“Pardner, ah ain't ta fond knowin' ah'm gonna have ta carry ya to the ER with broken shards of glass in yer stomach.” Engineer quickly fished out his wrench from his belt, and opened the cap of his own bottle with a skillful flick. “There. Much safer, ain't it?”   
  
Soldier stared a little dumbfounded. It seemed that literally any other way to open a bottle never occurred to the man, and that this was probably the closest to a magic trick Soldier had ever seen.  
Engineer smirked. “Well, ah, here Sal, let's sit down.” Engineer kicked two plastic chairs into the center of the room. “'tis been a long day, ah'm completely spend. Ya mind?” Engineer removed his hardhat, but left his goggles on. He slumped down into the seat. Soldier didn't. Beer in his hand, he seemed to stare back at the engineer inquisitively.   
  
The texan, for a short moment, felt a slight pang of insecurity. Perhaps this was not something you should be asking a Soldier, to just sit down like that. He pushed it aside, and smiled.  
  
“Well, c'mon then. It ain't bitin'.” he patted the chair. Soldier slowly approached. Each step felt like he was cautiously avoiding landmines while trying to walk as straight and normal as possible. He sat down, emphatically slowly. The plastic creaked softly under his weight. He eyed the drafting table across from them, filled with scrap metals, notes hanging on the wall, empty coffee mugs stacked into a tiny dish tower.   
  
“Are you and the kraut doing any progress?” he asked. Engineer wasn't sure if he should lie to him or not. He could rattle down all the things he has or in fact hasn't) solved, and await him to get frustrated because it was too complicated for him to understand. Or he could tell him how it was – that three days with little to no sleep, he was as active and progressive as a man watching the daisies grows from down under the soil.  
  
“Well, ah suppose we are getting' there.” he said, and took a long drag from his bottle. He didn't like the sound of this sentence all by its own, so he added. “The doc and me been takin' apart loads'a teleporters recently. Funny enough, there seems absolutely nothin' wrong, really. Nothin' outta the ordinary. It's jus' the ol' teleporter ah've been usin' all along. Of course there is the possibility tat this has been an issue from day one and now it's decidin' ta become a problem.”  
  
He ran a hand over his face. Then, silence. Neither spoke a word for a good amount of time. There was the softest buzzing of machinery in the background, and occasionally the alert bleeping of the sentrygun he set up close to the door. Engineer raked his mind for a topic to talk about. Sure, he enjoyed the quietness. But quietness is unlike silence. For quietness is gentle and soft. And silence is forceful. And all he wanted was to relax, forget. Even for just a moment.  
  
“So, uh. Enough of me - How's the bread-teleportin' goin'?” he asked.  
“It's doing well.” Soldier nodded. “I have teleported five hundred breads by today.”  
“Wow. Five hundred eh?” Engineer took a big swig from his bottle. “If that ain't some number. Ya sure are pumpin' up mah teleportin' rate for the entire month.”  
  
Engineer chuckled a little, a petty attempt to solve some of the awkwardness left between them. It felt like the very oxygen was replaced with heavy, awkward cotton. Engineer drank.  
“So, uh. May I ask ya, uh. Why?”  
“Why what?” Soldier asked.  
“Why teleportin' bread?”  
Soldier tapped a finger against the neck of the bottle, then taking a sip. “Classified.”  
“Oh?”  
“I'm not entitled to tell you my business, civilian.”  
  
“Well, this business is involving mah teleporter. Ah guess ah do have some rights ta know?”  
  
Soldier's grunted. He noticed the man was not looking at him at all, and his free hand began clenching. Engineer assumes he's uncomfortable. That's not his intention. So, he places a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, ah'm jus' kiddin'. Ya don't have to tell me.”  
But Soldier looked thoughtful. They both finished their beers, and opened up new ones. “If your flimsy mind is interested, you can join me teleporting bread later.” he said.  
“Hm? Oh, uh. Well, I'm probably goin' back to work after --”  
“It may be of use to you.” he pressed.  
  
“How so?” Engie frowned. Soldier's jaw clicked. It always did when he was particularly frustrated, or angry. Engie realized he might have upset the Soldier by questioning his actions, but instead of lashing out, he muttered. “You and Medic teleport bread all the time.”  
“Well, yeah. that's true. But we're doin' that for, yknow, scientific reasons.”  
“So am I.”  
  
Engineer paused before the bottle reached his lips. With all due respect, he believed intelligence was not a matter of who you are, and he gladly gave the benefit of the doubt to anybody, no matter how smart they appeared. But Soldier? Doing science? That felt unreal and, simply said, ridiculous. The man had trouble reading. How was he supposed to even know what he was doing.  
  
He pondered if Soldier was trying to be involved in this, tried to help somehow, even if he didn't know how. Or perhaps knew he really couldn't. He didn't ask him. He knew Soldier would instantly grow sour, and right now, Engineer enjoyed sitting and talking to someone else for just a while, and the fuzzy bubbling inside the pit of his stomach was slowly lulling him into a state of blissful forgetting. Blissful, passive-aggressive forgetting.  
  
“This is nice.” Engineer said, and slumped deeper into his seat. Soldier grunted again and drank. “Makes ya almost forget we gonna die tomorrow.”  
The fact he said this without instantly going into a panicky fit felt like insects in his mouth. Unfamiliar and alien. Like it didn't belong. But to hell with that. He wished to talk about this right now. Right now, now that he finally had someone down here who listened.   
  
“Honest ta god.” and Engineer didn't know why he chuckled at that, “I'm pissin' mahself with fear.”  
  
Soldier looked at him, but not for long, because he went back to drinking. He was at his second beer at that time – Engineer just finished his fourth. “Guess ah'm the only one though. The entire team is jus'...calm. Calm like this is jus', what? A class trip?” he turned to the commando, grinning. “Tell me, what's your secret Soldier-boy?”  
  
Soldier took a deep breath, almost as if Engineer revealing his deepest fears was offending him. “I do not devote myself with such filth like death.” he growled. It's what he had said before. The exact same thing. Nothing changed in his demeanor. Death was approaching fast. And he didn't care.  
  
“Solly, ya gonna die, you know that?” Engineer became blunt all of the sudden.  
“Yes.” Soldier said. Still, nothing. No reaction. No fear, no anger, no sadness – nothing.  
  
“Ya gonna leave family behind and loose friends and loved ones...” Engineer propped further, hoping to get to the core of the man.  
“Some will. Others won't. Those that have been blessed with my  acquaintanceship will remember me as the abounding image of a true american.”  
  
A bitter thought settled in Engineer's mind.  
  
What if Soldier hadn't had any family? No parents, no siblings. No wife, or children or friends? What if there simply was nobody he had to say goodbye to, or feel shaken by his fate, and the knowledge to leave loved ones behind?  
Engineer sneered. It angered him. It fucking angered him that there was nothing, not a single trace of fear this man showed. Nobody did. Nobody. Only he. He was stuck in a tornado of panic, of denial, of despair. Fear. Sadness. And now, rage.  
  
“Boy. You're dumber than a carpet-corner.”  
Soldier spat the small amount of beer he just drank back into the bottle. He coughed, then, turned to Engineer so sharply, the chair nearly collapsed under his weight. Engineer didn't flinch. There anger behind those tinted, unreadable goggles.  
“How dare you--?” he hissed.  
  
“You're dying, you dumbass!” Engineer growled, and smashed his bottle onto the armrest, beer pouring onto his overall and the floor. “Everyone's dyin', and ah'm the only person givin' two shiny shits about it! Ah am tearin' my very ass apart fer this! Ah' not jus' givin' up! Ah'm not jus' sittin' here and think 'Oh death, who cares about death anyway when ah'm american'?”  
  
Soldier's hand curled into a fist. Engineer knew Soldier would surely sock him any second now. But he didn't. Instead, he did what he was second best at.  
He yelled.  
  
“HOW DARE YOU INSULT THE SOUL OF A TRUE AMERICAN!? DO YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER WITH THAT FILTHY MOUTH?!”  
No. He had kissed  _him_ with that mouth.   
  
“A true American will not turn their backs on their destiny. If this is what will await me, I will not fight it. I will let death  _feel_ what patriotism is! I will let that sonuvabitch break his teeth trying to gnash my spirit!”  
“Well, ah'm not acceptin' this. Ah have a life ahead of me! Dreams to fulfill! Ah dun' care if nobody else has – because ah have! And ah'm not gonna have you tell me to suck it up!”  
  
“ YOU WILL NOT TALK TO YOUR SEARGANT IN THIS TONE!”  
“SCREW YOU!” Engineer blurted.   
  
Alcohol and sleep-deprivation was a terrible combination, He felt dizzy. So, so dizzy. His head was swimming, yelling alone had surely popped some veins around his caffeine and determination-driven brain. He didn't know that he had actually jumped off his seat until his knees gave in.   
  
It felt like his body was floating on waves, and standing was too hard. In his fuzzy state, he reached out for the first thing in his sight. It was solid, and he hoped it was the chair he had jumped off from. He opened his eyes, and saw blue.  
“A-ah'm...” He muttered. “Ah'm workin', day and night. Ah can't remember the last time I've slept. Or eaten. I can't – I can't jus' give up. I can't just let us down. Let mahself down...”  
It was the truth. He knows that vulnerability was poison for Soldier, and still, he couldn't help but let the words fall.  
  
“I'm believing in your inferior, southern intellectual, Engie.” He heard him speak. He wasn't yelling, but his voice was feeling like a boom in his ears, nevertheless.  
  
“But ah'm not. Ah'm not...” Engineer shook his head. Slowly, he slumped back into his seat, a hand on his face, the other clinging desperately to Soldier's jacket. He fully expected to have it pushed off once he was feeling solid, non-spinning ground on his weary body again. But he didn't. Soldier let him. He sat, even though he had a good reason to just leave. Engineer felt the most pathetic he had ever felt. He wanted to cry. He wanted, so badly, and yet he couldn't. It was stuck in his throat and burned through the bridge of his nose. No tears fell.   
  
He sucked in a deep breath. It felt alien to breathe. Was he dying? He surely felt like it. No, they still had time. Maybe, if he was lucky, death would come sooner, engulf him, and then let him go. Let him die to avoid the awkwardness, and shame he would feel once he would sober up and look into Soldiers face. Avoid working a single day again.  
  
He felt Soldier's strong shoulder rolling as he lifted the bottle to his lips again. Those same strong arms that held him in the freezing cold. Prevented him from dying. A vain attempt, if he might say so – but still, the memory stayed.  
The lack of rest made him pliable to those memories. And the alcohol made him foolish. He just now realized how goddamn drunk he was, because suddenly, his fear was blown away.  
His lips curled into a cat-like leer. He chuckled softly, happy that his head, once it lolled to the side, was caught by a soft resistance.  
  
“Mh. Ah don't think ah ever thanked ya for savin' me.” He drawled. Soldier's body stiffened. He had raised his hand again to drink, but it hovered a few inches away from his face now. He looked like he was thinking. His chapped lips were pursing ever so slightly, whenever he was thinking. For some reason, Engineer finds it cute.  
  
“Spare your rewards, professor.” he muttered after a while. “Knowing that I was able to save a brother in arms is remunerating enough.”  
  
Engineer grinned wider. “Well, if'n savin' me is enough for ya, I guess that's fair enough, but...Ah was thinkin' bout somethin' else.”  
  
Soldier shot him a wary gaze. Engineer realizes that talking to the man in unclear ways was probably not such a good idea, just for the sake of not being accused of being a Spy in disguise. So, Engineer does the most logical thing – he shows his intentions. He grows bold, takes the bottle from Soldiers hand.   
  
The man huffed. “This is _my_ beer! You have your own!” He snarled.  
  
“Ya can have it back in due time, Soldier-boy.” The engineer slurred, as he put the bottle to the ground. “Trust me, ya gonna need a free hand fer now.”  
“A free hand?!” Soldier retorted. “ What are your intentions? Cleaning weapons? Playing poker? Are we going on a secret RED killing spree? Excellent idea, Engie, I am  _absolutely_ positive I have seen one of those filthy RED snakes somewhere in…What are you doing down there, Private?”  
  
Engineer had slipped off his seat, settling down on top of his knees. He was glad that in his slushy mind he had still managed to keep his knee pads on. He may be a dying man, but he sure as hell won't die with carpet burns.  
Without answering the man, he reached out. His hands closed around his thighs, feeling muscles, rock-solid and shifting ever so slightly beneath his palms. He began caressing them up and down, savoring the feel.   
  
Gosh, how had he been able to have shared a bed with this man before, but never even having the chance to be cheeky by jowl with him? He knew the commando was ninety percent muscles and ten percent brain. But reassuring himself was nevertheless an adventure of its own. Soldier had suddenly grown very quiet.  
  
He didn't exactly know if that was a good, or a bad sign, but seeing as he had not has his teeth socked out by now, he supposed he was not overstepping boundaries. Engineer took his time, just caressing slowly, feeling, sometimes he squeezed into one of those muscles and find with soft delight that they either twitched back, or noticeably relaxed under his touches. It's just now that Engineer yet again realizes how strong this man was. A true killing machine, toughened by war, strengthened by willpower. Engineer wasn't weak, mind you. Not so weak that he couldn't match with the man. But he sure as hell was still impressed.   
  
“Ah'm quite lucky t'day, ain't I?”  
Soldier gave a small noise, an attempt to sound disdainful when he was too focused on Engineers hands. “How so?” He responded eventually.  
  
Engineer grinned, and leaned his cheek against the mans knee. “Ya ain't tellin' me ta take mah hands off.” he explained. He brushed the inside of the mans leg , along one of the hems of his slacks. He could feel the man stiffen in his seat. “Ah'm guessin' ya like this then?”  
  
“It's not my first time I'm getting my _shoes_ cleaned!” Soldier responded. Engineer actually stopped moving his hand for just a moment. Either Soldier was being sarcastic – or oblivious. He probably had more patience if his head was clear and his mind wasn't filled with an ever so persistent longing. But now, he just grinned widely at the man, and ignored his comment. He resumed the caressing, over the curve of his chiseled  sartorius muscle, all the way up until he could feel sharp hipbones on his hands. He stopped, holding onto the mans hips, as he inched closer.   
  
“What are you -- ?” Soldier muttered.   
"Relax Sal. Jus' Relax."  
"I am NOT taking any orders regarding slacking off from you!"  
"Jus' part yer legs and lemme get ta work, dummy."  
"Part my legs? PART MY LEGS? WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM, A FLIMSY WHORE?! YOU CANNOT – oh."  
  
Soldier stopped, the moment Engineer had squeezed himself so close, the tip of his nose almost came in contact with the Soldiers fly. Engineer's hands palmed the outline of Soldiers thigh and hips, and busying themselves with undoing the mans bandolier.   
He had expected another round of yelling from the Soldier, for boldly undressing him. But the moment Engineer looked up, he could see the man simply staring at the texans busy hands. Perhaps Soldier had finally realized what the Engineer had in mind for him.  
  
He shouldn't waste another second. Bandolier opened, the Engineer went straight for the Soldier:s slacks, opening them with a flick of his thumb. They parted, revealing a clean white set of military issued underwear. Of course, Engineer thought, and couldn't help but grin. Soldier was growing stiff as a board in his seat, not moving, hands holding onto the armrests.  
  
Engie pulled down the flaps of the mans pants, far enough to reveal a tentative, yet noticeable tightness behind the white cotton. Seems like his efforts were good for something after all. He lazily moved a hand over the underwear, and was greeted with Soldiers hips bucking back, all by their own accord. The man stifled a sound, which was enough for the texan to continue. He cupped the prominent outline of the mans erection, teasing along the mans waistband.   
  
“Hm-hm.” he snickered. “This feels promisin'.”  
“Promising for _what?_ ” Soldier bit back.   
“Oh, nuthin'” Engineer muttered, as he set his jaw into place. A finger hooked around the fabric and pulled.  
  
Soldier was the true image of a sturdy military man. Now that Engieer actually had a good view on him, he could confidently say he was build sturdy everywhere. He was quite impressive. Not too long, but broad and strong, and all that in a state of half-erection. The hair growing was trimmed and cut short, besides a small line of dark blonde hair running up to the mans bellybutton. Engineer felt saliva pool in his mouth.   
  
He reached out and unceremoniously touched the outline of the man's shaft. “Well, well, wouldcha lookit that.” Engie drawled. “Ya sure got some gun there, don'cha?”   
Soldier grunted in an attempt to keep his hips still, yet he failed miserably, as Engineer began palming him, stroking softly around the soft, hot skin, from the flushed tip to the base. He watched as the texan leaned in, lips ghosting a soft kiss along the sensitive top.   
  
“ _Hng._ ” Soldier growled, the armrest creaking beneath his iron grip.  
“Relax, hotstuff.” Engineer patted the man's thigh. This time Soldier gave no word of disobedience, and that may be just fine. The tinkerer sat up, and pushed his goggles down and around his neck. Soldier stared. He had seen the man without them before. Even though they were small, they hid so many truly significant features on the Engineer's face.   
  
The texan barely focused on Soldier's fixated staring. He was drunk, horny, his brain goo and mush, too much to feel ashamed about letting his professionalism drop, and too concentrated on the Soldier's warm member in his hand. He extended his tongue, licking the tiny drop of salty precome. He began working the man between his lips, slowly sliding inches and inches into his mouth, his fingers steadily stroking along the base. Soldier breathed a little funnier. He had his jaw clenched, lips barely parted to show off those canines that ground harder the more his length vanished into the Engineer's warm mouth.   
  
He worked him gradually, just the tip, then more, sucking back up, and bobbing his head back down. Soon, there was a rhythm. Engineer worshiped the heavy dick inside his mouth and hands, tongue swirling, kissing whenever he released him, only to be greeted with a frustrated growl. He always promised to get back, and so he did.   
  
Soldier inched his knees apart further. One of those strong hands released the armrest and reached out, resting on top of the Engineer's sandy blonde hair, holding his head as he steered it into the pace he desired. Deep throaty grunts, soft noises of pleasure, sometimes a small curse word were all the things that tumbled from the military man's lips, and it just encouraged the Engineer to go harder, faster.   
  
He felt his vision swim a little. He couldn't care. Soldier never left his gaze off of the man's face. He was handsome, but in a grotesque, unhealthy way. Deep, dark circles had formed beneath the texans eyes, combined with the pale shade his skin had absorbed, his eyes appeared greener than ever. Wrinkles had build on top of his with sweat glistening forehead. He looked old and tired, even now, even as a streak of saliva ran down the side of his mouth and a little blush of exhaustion build on the top of his nose.  
  
Soldier's finger curled around the man's skull. He groaned deeply and set the sole of his boots firmly on top of the concrete. His hips had no halt anymore, he thrust eagerly into the texan's throat. Engineer gave a strangled noise, tried pulling away, with the hand holding him in place blocking his attempt. A few tears shot to his eyes, but it was bearable, it was somehow manageable. He felt the mans member throbbing heavily in his mouth, heard the commando's heavier breathing, deeper and louder sounds, felt neatly trimmed pubehair tickle the tip of his nose and smelled the intoxicating scent of musk, sweat and Soldier's natural bodyodor.   
  
His fingers dug hard into the Soldier's thighs, and that set the Soldier into an end spurt. He thrust deep, fast, loud, angry growls echoing in the workshop and drowning out the soft buzzing in the room, but certainly not that terribly pesky buzz in the Engineer's head. His eyes were growing heavy. His vision was swimming and spinning whenever he tried to keep them ope. He couldn't focus on the intense pressure in his throat, or the slowly approaching aftermath of his gag reflex being so ruthlessly assaulted, nor on the harsh noises above him. He felt dizzy.  
  
Soldier gave a last erratic thrust, one that nearly threw him out of his very seat, hands clenching hard around the plastic chair and Engie's skull, burying himself to the very hilt, and came to a still stand, a throaty roar escaping his breathless lungs. Engineer gulped down whatever the Soldier gave and steadied himself on the man's trembling legs.  
  
Then, everything stopped, and left was a softening grip on the mans back of the skull, breathless heaves and the smell of sex in the air. Engineer released the mans member with a last, teasing pop, then brushed off the remains from his chin. He felt exhausted. Probably more exhausted than the Soldier at that point, his head slumped and leaned against the military mans thigh, just for a moment, just to catch his breath, relax his eyes...  
  
Soldier opened his eyes as he came by. He gulped a few times, before finding his voice. “Your sign of appreciation is accepted, Engie.” he mumbled, tried to sound as collected as he could muster. He received no answer.  
“Engie?” he repeated, and looked down.  
  
The texan was fast asleep. Pure exhaustion held the man in this uncomfortable position, on his knees, and his head leaned against the military mans thigh. This had been the final straw for the man's endurance. Three sleepless nights, undernourished, overworked – and a blowjob had shot his lights out ultimately. Soldier stared down at him for a while. He should yell at him for being such a wuss and falling asleep on the spot like a pile of pathetic whatever he would come up with.   
  
But he didn't. Instead, he buttoned himself up again, and slowly pushed the man of of his leg, readjusting him so he could bend down, and pick him up. He carried the sleeping man bridal style through the workshop. Engie didn't even notice that. Nor that Soldier was setting him down onto the couch, with a pillow under his head. Didn't notice as Soldier grabbed the quilt from the recliner and throw it over the texan's body. He switched off the lights as he left the workshop.

 

 


	8. Sacrificing

Engineer was, to say it nicely, absolutely boiling with anger.

Goo and green, slimy yeast clung to his face and his goggles, drenched his overall and shirt. The assembly room looked worse. The walls had crumbled down, cracks on the concrete floor and, of course, a thick, two-inch layer of mucus covered the floor and clung to his heavy boots.

The mercs have been in some deep troubles before, no question – this however was beyond the pale. Beyond  _any_  pale.

Engineer woke up feeling sick and miserable. His back groaned in protest when he moved, and his head felt like an egg bouncing inside his skull cavity. He didn't know what had happened. All he remembered was Soldier being with him here in his workshop and sharing a beer. He remembered vaguely that they had a dispute which ended in both of them yelling at each other, and then...  
  
Engineer felt the blanket slip from his shoulders. When did he end up on the couch? Had he grabbed the quilt in his sleep to cover himself? Or...  
Or did Soldier do that?  
  
Probably, seeing as Soldier was nowhere to be seen. The bottle of beer he had abandoned was still standing on the floor next to the white plastic chair he had sat in. Strange strings of memories came back to his mind, about him kneeling there in front of the chair and toying around with the soldiers fly and...  
  
There was a frantic knocking on the door.  
“Herr Engineer~?” Medic's voice warbled through the walls. Engineer's hands grabbed hold of his throbbing head, ad with a groan, he stepped on wobbly legs to the entrance.  
  
Medic looked as always. Neat and dressed and rested well, and in a terribly good mood – considering their situation.  
  
“Mornin', doc.”  
  
“How did you sleep, mein freund? Vell? You've been sleeping in.”  
  
“Not really well.” Engineer admitted. “Been havin' troubles ta, uh...come to rest”. He let the words linger for a while – with no success. Medic was still looking as carelessly as ever.  
  
“Uhm, well anyway- how can ah help ya?”  
  
“Engie, but just look at zhe time, mein freund.” Medic chuckled. Engineer turned to stare at the clock.   
  
“ 'Tis ten am, alright.” Engineer growled.   
  
“Noo, Engie, no no.“ Medic waved his hand dismissively, snickering ever so lightly.. “I mean – yes, you're right, but – It's also time to practice medicine.”  
  
Engineer honestly envied whatever entity the doctor pulled his endless energy from. Because he was certainly not blessed with it.  
“Come on, mein Freund.” The german tut-tutted, he must have seen the lack of motivation on the tinkerer's face. “It's still zhree hours till our inevitable doom. Ve can still use zhis time to figure zhis out!”  
  
Well. There's nothing else to loose, Engie pondered. He had royally humiliated himself in front of the Soldier last night, thats all he could remember. He had royally messed up his body, sleeping schedule and diet over the last three days. He knew he wouldn't die with dignity, so – what the hell. He agreed, and followed Medic back into their laboratory. Instantly, they began repeating all their progress, read through several notes and went through the Engineer's blueprints, teleported tons of bread, again and again.   
  
And then.   
It happened.  
  
  
 _“Eureka!!”_

  
A rush of adrenaline zoomed through the Engineers body, as these words echoed through the workshop. “D-Doc?” he stammered.   
“Of course, Engie, It's been zhere before our very eyes all zhe time!” Medic had grabbed two separated eyeballs from a jar, for emphasis. “Look, look here.”  
And he placed the eyeballs on the teleporter. Engineer sighed and rubbed the bride of his nose.

  
“Doc, you  _know_  what's gonna happen. Ain't no use -” he mumbled. The split-second amount of hope he just had felt was blown out of his weary, clouded mind.  
“Aber nein! Just look, Engineer!”  
And Engineer looked. And then, it clicked too.

 

The base had to know. Everyone had to know. Engineer sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him, down the aisles and into each and every individual room, to find the rest of the team.   
  
Spy, Demo and Soldier were standing in the camera rooms. Soldier had been supervising the area, and despite being on duty, it had been easy to convince the military man to join him, and set his camera on room 39, where the intelligence was secured.

Engineer only heard the heavy, fluttering thumping of his heart inside his ears to register that the alarm bells had started ringing – usually a sign that said intelligence had been taken out of their respectful secured safe.   
The camera zoomed closer to the face of the Scout, with his short hair clicked to the back of his head, and a classy pipe in his hand.

  
“Hellooo, Miss Pauling. What an unexpected surprise!”  
  
“The briefcase – no worries. We can fix this.” Miss Pauling panted as she breezed past Scout and into the observation room. “We'll get it back, and the Administrator never has to know.” She assured. But Scout, despite how dire the actual situation would have   
been, if the alarm wasn't false, looked oddly tranquil. Not to mention, he looked much cleaner than usually – and was that cologne on his wrist?  
  
“You look...You...look... _err_..”  
  
Demo frowned. “Drunk!” he called against the monitor. Soldier clutched the lean of the seat that Spy sat on, captivated by the moment. “Soft!” he blurted. “Round? No! Soft!”  
“Blurry!”  
  
 _“Ravishing!”_ Scout smiled.  
  
Spy stopped rubbing his temple in favor of quirking an eyebrow at the screen. Seems there still was hope for the kid, somewhere along the lines of seducing women.

That's when Engineer threw in the door. Panting, out of breath, and his heardhat hanging to the side of his head.  
Spy, Demo and Soldier turned around. Staring back at the image of their Engineer in collective astonishment.   
  
“Guys, fellas -” Engineer he panted. “I-It's...It's just the bread that catches tumors.”   
“Come again?” Demo babbled.   
“Th-The bread. The bread, it's – it's the only thing catching tumors from the teleporters!”

There was a moment of silence among the room as the news sunk in. Only disturbed as Medic followed into the room.  
  
“It's not even tumors, actually!” he beamed, a large, sealed jar in his hands. “It's some sort of self aware beauty mark that only metastasizes in an environment of pure wheat.”  
Demo and Soldier looked like they slowly understood what this was about, their alert faces softening.  
  
“Pardon, docteur, for my disbelief, but – I remember you were informing us about the enemy spy covered in zhese... _self-aware beauty marks_  and falling victim to it, after using one of your teleporters. And zhe Pyro, too.”  
  
“Oh, zhat's easy to explain.” Medic grinned. “Zhe first time we thought we saw zhe marks on someone else's body were on Pyro's neck – turns out it's just an actual tumor.” He looked cheerier than the situation should have allowed, “But do not vorry, ve have put him under quarantine.”  
  
“And the enemy's Spy?” Spy asked.  
“Ah, yes, zhe only logical reason I have for zhis is – He must have taken a sip of very cheap, adulterated wine, zhat has been watered down vith a sip of Kornbrand. Zhe marks developed inside zhe Spook's stomach and spread from zhere on all over zhe Spy's body. Or, vell...” He took a sip through clenched teeth, as if he was very careful with the words he was going to choose next. “Or he ate a sandvich beforehand. Vhich if Heavy finds out vill surely not make him happy. He von't be allowed to eat zhem before any teleportationd from now on.”  
  
Spy had set his eyes to the Engineer, all the while Medic explained their discovery. He eyed the shagged up, sleep deprived, unshaven, but nevertheless beaming Engineer with interest.  
  
“Ah.” he nodded, and a sly smile played around his lips, as he leaned back into his seat. “T rès bien, gentlemen.  _Très bien!_ W e owe you our lives, once again.”  
  
“Ah shucks. Ain't nuthin'.” Engineer smirked with the faintest of blush on his cheek. Soldier noticed. His hand clasped a little faster around the seat he held onto.

  
“Oh I almost completely forgot to show you zhe best part. Vatch zhis!” and Medic began shaking the jar. The loaf of bread inside, now spiked with sharp teeth and a life of its own, winded itself angrily, hissing and gnawing at the glass. “Ohoho! It hates me so much.” Medic cooed with absolute glee.   
  
Engineer, after days of hard, tiresome work, found himself at ease, once more. He smiled a tired smile, the pain on his chest dissolved into flutters and his limbs carried him with ease, as he slung his arms around Medic's, and Soldier's shoulder.  
  
“So, we're fine.” he sighed happily. “As long as nobody's teleportin' any bread.”  
  
“Question.”

“What's yer question, Soldier?” Engineer smiled at him.  
  
“I teleported bread.”  
  
Engineer felt his stomach drop the moment the words were spoken. Medic stopped shaking the jar. Demo stopped crying in happiness and holding onto Spy. Spy stopped struggling against the suffocating hold. All of them stopped and stared back at the Soldier.  
  
Engineer felt his hands become...clammy all of the sudden.  
  
“What...?” he breathed. Soldier slipped from Engineer's arm. His expression obscured, but his voice had a justifying tone to it.  
  
  
“You told me to.”  
  
  
Everyone's eyes flickered to the Texan now. Engineer was frozen to his very spot. He did remember saying this to his friend. He remembered seeing the commando sitting at the end of a hallway on his own, shoving bread from one teleporter into the next. He remembered himself asking about it, the night before – and he remembered saying that he was free to teleport as much bread as he wished. His hands are shaking. It had been so much bread he had teleported. He had seen the pile of baked goods.

He gulps as he takes a step toward him. “Soldier...” he breathes. “How much...?”  
  
Soldier leaned back. It seemed that it just now occurred to him as well how dumb his doings were.  
“I've done nothing but teleport bread for  three days.” he said.  
  
 _CRACK.  
_  
Engineer didn't notice the jar in Medic's hand dropping and breaking, green slime splashing up the walls and all the way up Engineer's leg. He didn't notice. Didn't care. His blood had frozen to ice in absolute, and utter fear.  
  
“VHERE?!” Medic snarled all of the sudden. Gloved fingers grab the Soldier by his collar. The military man himself looks in utter shock, as he found himself hovering above the ground, the sheer strength of Medic holding him up in the air.  
_“VHERE HAVE YOU BEEN SENDING IT?!”_

The floor was shaking all of the sudden. For a moment, Engineer was sure it was only his knees, giving in. Then, the walls shook too, and Engineer thought he would surely collapse. Dust tumbled to the floor. He knows now, he's not the only one feeling it.  
  


Whatever happened, it happened too fast. He was stunned for a good five minutes, that thousand yard stare hidden behind his thick goggles. Before Medic pulled him out of his shock and towards the enormous body of the bread monster lying across the floor, green slime pouring out of its torn body.   
  
“Well, ehehe.” The doctor grinned. “I knew it had potential. Great potential. Well, uh – too much potential perhaps.”  
  
Engineer wanted to throttle his throat, but seeing as how shaky his hands still were he wasn't sure he even had the energy for that. “Now, how do ve get zhis cleaned up here?”  
  
“May I make a suggestion?” Spy said, pointing towards the only one of the group who was absolutely, completely drenched in slimy yeast.  
  
“I teleported bread!!” Soldier cheered. But nobody, besides Miss Pauling perhaps, joined his excited stupor. Everyone was either wounded, or grabbed the remains of couch and TV sets and poker tables. Soldier's eyes met Engie's and Medics, and he quickly skidded towards them. “Engie, did you see that? I teleported bread!” he exclaimed once more, launching bits of goo onto the Medic's glasses.  
  
  
That's when anger set in.   
  
Quickly. And fiercely.   
  
  
“Soldier,” Engineer said as calm as he could, his jaw clenched. “Did  _you_  teleport this bread until it's gotten to this size?”  
  
“Affirmative!” Soldier sounded as if he just won three Nobel prizes at once. “You see, it started small. At first it was just a little bread cub with no teeth, and then it slowly grew – look, it even ate three of my fingers.” Soldier held up a bloodied, pitiful excuse of a hand with two remaining fingers.   
  
“And then it started eating the other breads and then it tried eating me. But nobody can just eat an american, it is IMPOSSIBLE for us to be eaten! We are NOT edi--”  
  
His speech was abruptly canceled as he felt something hard being pushed into the pit of his stomach. “Gugh!” Soldier gasped, looking down. Engineer's fist had buried into the Soldier's body. In his closed fist was a mop.  
  
“Then,” Engineer hissed with absolute venom in his voice. “You can clean this up here. All of it.  _Alone_.”  
  
“Yessir!” Soldier saluted and grabbed the mop, beginning to swipe away the goo from the floor, before he stopped. “Hold on,” he said. “You DARE putting me in the position of a common private?! Who do you think--”  
  
“DAMN RIGHT AH AM PUTTIN YA IN THAT POSITION, YA BIG BAFFOON!!” Engineer's voice boomed. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks, and turned towards the mechanic and the Soldier. Nobody made a sound as Engineer's voice hung heavy in the air. Only to be pierced by it again.  
  
“You put us in danger, you put Miss Pauling in danger, you put the entire base  _and_  the intelligence in danger - ALL of us! Are ya even comprehendin' that?!  _DO YOU?”  
  
_ He must have caught Soldier so off guard, that he didn't even find his voice to yell back. Standing there, frozen, Soldier stared back at the shorter man who would have surely hogtied him and barbecued him on an open fire, if he wasn't at the very edge of madness. He was absolutely drained. He was done.

He turned around, and dashed through the corridor, back to his workshop. He slammed the door shut, and switched on the lights. Stumbling down the stairs on shaky knees, he wobbled towards his workbench, and collapsed there. His kneecap clanking loudly on the cold concrete floor, Engineer was holding onto the table surface. His sight was spinning, His head was buzzing. He was passing out, he was sure about that. For a moment, he felt himself giving in, just for a moment, just a moment of silence, a moment of rest.

  
But this doggone tiny, frantic voice in the back of his head started yelling over the pesky buzz inside his ears. If you fall asleep now, how do you know you will wake up again?

  
Engineer inhaled sharply, and tumbled back to his feet. The heel of his boot caught the stool behind him, and Engineer tumbled backwards. There was a loud clank vibrating through is hardhat. Everything was spinning.  
  
With the tiniest amount of sense he still had left, he vehemently tried to keep his eyes open and his body from giving in.  
When was the last time he ate? When was the last time he properly slept? When his body wasn't fueled by caffeine and biting guilt? He longed to close his eyes and just let all of these horrible sensation fade. But he dreaded giving in, dreaded if he fell asleep now, he will die.  
  
He didn't want to die. For three days, he was tortured with the idea of dying, and now he might as well was doing it right now. He couldn't. Not now.   
  
Engineer opened his eyes after what felt like hours. It may jut have been one, or just a couple of minutes. Maybe just one blink of an eye later. But he found himself rising to his feet with power he didn't possess. His head pounded and his mind was spinning, as he propped himself up on his hands against the drafting table. His eyes aimlessly searched around the flat wooden surface. His sight was spotty and flickered with different colors and shapes.   
  
He had to focus. He had to focus right now, else he was sure he was going mad.  
  
His shaky hands were rustling up the stacks of paper beneath his palm. He looked down. Equations and calculations, rough sketches of the teleporter. He felt his blood boil. He pushed the stack off his table with force, paper fluttering around him and softly landing to the floor. Beneath, he found the old blueprint of the gunslinger.   
  
He had always dreaded this blueprint. Had dreaded it, because the only way to bring this tool alive, the texan would have to make sacrifices. Medic wouldn't do it. He wouldn't be able to convince anybody else, and he would never take the help of the spook in consideration, afraid that he would take a little more away than Engineer would need to give up.  
  
He should have thrown it away ages ago. But oh, morbid curiosity kept him from scraping it.  He wondered. The haze of hunger and sleep-deprivation, and caffeine withdrawal all cleared suddenly.   
  
Too suddenly. Because before he knew it, his hand rose far above his read. He didn't know why, and why he suddenly felt like this, this must be the answer, this just felt absolutely right and still so wrong. He didn't know what he was doing, or why he felt this way. And why his hand was sparkling in sharp silver.

 

* * *

  
  
“Christ, this sucks!” Scout growled, hands at his sides as he towered over the last remains of what might have been their common rooms' sofa. Smashed to pieces, and soaked in green slime. “Everythin's effin' busted here.”  
  
He wasn't here to help. Nope. The team all in all had silently agreed that the person who had caused this in the first place would clean up this enormous mess. Everybody, but Medic. However, all he did was fishing some samples into vials and scurry off into his laboratory.

Soldier didn't argue with his sentence. He was a good Soldier. He was given an instruction, and he would tend to it until it was finished. However, he just couldn't understand why people thew him these angry gazes. Heavy had marched inside, barely fazed by the chaos. However as he tended to the fridge, he noticed it was smashed too, dented, and the lightbulbs were broken and stuck in his sandviches now. He snarled deeply, and dropped his inedible lunch into the slimy mess, turning to Soldier. He clicked his knuckles with the lust to close them around the commandos neck and shove his spoilt sandviches down his throat – that's when Scout had joined them and kicked through the debris.   
  
“Ah geez man,” he huffed and tried rubbing yeast off of his sneakers.  
  
“Scout.” Soldier nodded towards him. “I see your date with Miss Pauling was a success?”  
  
“Oh yeah, oh dang it freakin'  _would_  have been!” The boy snapped. “It would have been fantastic I'm tellin' ya. Oh, man we could have had such a nice evenin', with disco and fancy chicken wings and all that – but _oooh_ , no. No, instead we were nearly killed!”   
  
He kicked again – yelping as his toe hit something very hard. He held his foot and hopped around, slipping and landing butt-first in a massive goo puddle. Which entertained Heavy enough to let go of the idea to mutilate Soldier.  
  
“Ah geez! This is so not cool!” Scout cried out. “This is the third time I'm changing my pants today! Ya gonna take my laundry shift over fo' that, buckethead!”  
  
“Yessir!” Soldier saluted, ad tended back to cleaning the slime off of the carpet. It was barely six am, when Soldier had nearly half of the room done, and he could feel his stomach growl in hunger. Oh right. It's breakfast time. He dropped the mop like an ordinary stick, and marched off to the dining hall.  
  
Nobody talked to him. That's fine, they usually didn't talk to him. Or looked at him. He didn't allow them after all. And rightfully so – a private had to ask before looking a Sergeant in the eye. He sat down next to Spy and Sniper, and Spy demonstratively removed himself as far as he could. Soldier smelled of rotten yeast. And there was slime hanging to his coat and helmet. Sniper didn't mind the least. Was probably not the first time the camper had to deal with a huge breadmonster.  
  
Soldier was about to begin his meal, when he stopped. Someone was AWOL. He noticed the amount of seven heads at the table, instead of the usual eight.   
  
Alright – which of these maggots was skipping the most important meal of the day?   
  
He saw Sniper and Spy. Heavy's bald head that sparkles in the light. He saw Medic's black tufts and Scouts cap among them. He heard Demo's belch from the other side of the room, and a giggled huff that surely indicated Pyro's gasmask. That left only...  
  
Was  _he_   AWOL? Soldier patted his hand all over his body, his chest, his shoulder, his helmet. No. He was here, alright. So who wasn't then?

  
“Ye holdin' up, mate?” Sniper asked the frantic Soldier next to him.  
“One of my privates thinks he can skip breakfast without me noticing.” he growled gravely.

Sniper 'hm'ed and stretched his long neck above the heads of their teammates. “Ah, roight – the egghead's gone.”  
  
“NEGATORY. I am right here.”  
  
“Oi'm talkin' bout the shorter egghead.”   
  
It took a moment for Soldier to understand who else in the team could be the 'egghead', until it hit him. The excessive lack of yellow hard-plastic just occurred to him.   
  
This was inexcusable. He may had managed to get the greasemonkey down to a suitable size over the last few months, but during this time he had knocked down into his mind to not forget to have breakfast, at least that. Two breakfasts a day in fact. Morning breakfasts and evening breakfasts. He was about to let off steam by loudly exclaiming his complaint, before he stopped himself. Engineer has had been very busy. He had seen it himself, the amount of work the man had put on himself in order to bring his mechanics back on track.   
  
Soldier knows he isn't wrong with what he did. In fact, he had helped them! He had proven, well, something by teleporting bread, right? Some scientifically evidence that yeast and teleporters had no good correspondence and he will make sure, himself, that no future soldiers of his garrison will carry any baked goods into battle.

Nevertheless, he knew he had upset the Engineer. He knew he upset him often with what he did. And seeing anger and disappointment on his face was leaving a bitter taste on his mouth.   
It still wasn't enough to make him feel guilty. Heck, this was a war of guns and words, not a war for apologizers! If he just went ahead and apologized to everybody he had done even the smallest bit of harm, that would only weaken the team spirit.   
  
Still...He couldn't help but feel like this was different when it came to the tinkerer. It wasn't like Soldier's was having favorites, nono. At least that's what he wanted to make himself believe. He simply agreed with the fact that, out of all the people here in this base, Engineer deserved the most to hear an apology.  
  
He sat there and stared down into his food for a good five minutes. Then, he finally decided to be the better man in the situation, and apologize to him. He had fulfilled his duty, the common room was almost completely slime-free at this point, and perhaps Engineer would still enjoy some meal nevertheless. Perhaps he wouldn't mind it either if Soldier enriched him with his presence as well.   
  
Soldier walked down the hallway with two trays of toast, butter, fried eggs, bacon and orange juice in his hands, carrying himself with as much self confidence and emotional distance as he could. Even though he felt his hands a little clammy from nervousness. He didn't expect this to be easy. What if he formed his apology in a wrong way? Even worse, what if Engineer wouldn't forgive him? That's fine, it's a risk he should see coming. He should nevertheless know it.

Carefully maneuvering the trays on one arm, he knocked with his free hand against the workshop door.  
  
“Engineer.” he called. “Requesting permission to come inside.”  
  
No answer. He waited patiently, precisely ten seconds, before he knocked once more.  
  
“Engie, Requesting permission for access.” he repeated. Still, no answer. He stared at the knob of the door, and twisted it, expecting it to be closed, which usually indicated that Engineer was not inside.  
  
It was unlocked. And the door opened. Soldier blinked and looked down the case of wooden stairs.   
  
The fluorescent lights were still on and flickered. The buzzing of machinery still adding to the strange but soothing ambiance. Soldier knew he had not received the ok to come in yet, but if this maggot thought he could ignore his knocks and not expect him to at least carry some food in, then he was dead wrong. Soldier descended the stairs, his heavy boots bending the wooden steps.  
  
“Engineer.” he repeated. “Are you here?”  
  
Still, he heard nothing. Then, half the stars down, he finally heard something. Not a reply. But very low moans. Soldier stood there and listened for a moment. Those were moans of pain he soon realized.   
  
“Engie.” he said, a little louder. “Are you in need of he--?”  
  
He stopped. His eyes fixed to the cold, ray, concrete floor beneath him as he rounded the corner which left him in sudden and strange, cold shock.  
  
Blood.  
  
Soldier knew what blood looked like. Smelled like. Tasted like. He knew it was hard to wash out of his blue coat after each mission and he knew it was thicker than water, rain and mud.   
  
Yet for some reason the fact that there was blood, in a domestic environment, and outside of battle where blood was still the mildest thing you could see coming out of a human – it suddenly set off all alarm bells in Soldier's mind. He quickly rounded the corner all the way – and dropped the trays of food he had.   
  
In a pile of scattered, blood soaked blueprints, sketches and paperwork, in a puddle of his own blood, lied Engineer. Clutching to his right arm. Or, whatever was left of his right arm. There, where a hand should be was nothing but a fountain of blood that dyed the floor and his clothes and his face.   
  
Soldier didn't ask. Didn't ask how, or why, or what. He came dashing towards the mechanic, and knelt down beside him.  
  
“Hold still.” Soldier muttered and clutched his owns shirt – ripping the lower half apart, and started wrapping the long line of cloth around his knuckles.  
  
Engineer was frantically sobbing, groaning, his body convulsing and shaking violently. "Hold still!” Soldier repeated. He grabbed Engineer's arm, and started wrapping the improvised tourniquet tightly around the crook of the man's biceps. Tightly. So tight it made Engineer cry out the most pitiful cry he had ever heard from the man. Soldier heard worse in battle, but oh – his throat was awfully dry and his voice thin and low.  
  
“Stay calm, you need to stay calm.” Soldier removed the man's helmet and goggles, and saw utter terror in those petty green pools. His eyes darted from Engineer's face to the bleeding stump and to the floor. Under a sheet of paper, fingers twitched. Soldier pushed the paper aside to see the missing hand, lying next to a large cleaver. The man#s small finger twitched like a dying insect's leg. He felt a tremble stutter through his body. "I-I will - “ he looked around. “I will get the medic.”  
  
“N-No! No!” Engineer blurted. “Please, no.”  
“There is not time to play the hero, professor, you are bleedi – “  
  
“Please, just don't!! Just don't! For the love of god.” he threw his head back in another cry of pain. “Just listen to me once in yer doggone life. Jus' once. Jus' – “ and he was cut short by another wave of shakes. Soldier didn't know how this man there on the floor, bleeding out, could refuse the help of a medic. He knew suicide was a fruitless attempt in these walls. As well as anywhere else, as long as the Administrator had control of the respawn. So what was driving him to do this?  
  
He wanted to ask. But then he saw the man's eyes and realized, that might have to be set back to later – Engineer's eyes started rolling into the back of his head.   
  
“Up.” Soldier grabbed the man by the nape and shoved his other arm under his back. “You need to get up.”  
He pressed the paling texan into a straight sitting position. “Look at me. Keep looking at me. You will be fine, private, you'll – “  
  
Engineer opened his mouth, and a gush of vomit sputtered out of him. He threw up all over himself, and partly on the Soldier's fatiques. He didn't care. He held his body leaned over. “Breathe. Keep breathing.” he instructed. “Breathe, maggot!”   
  
Engineer coughed violently, gasped, sipped in a deep breath, panted. His hand and the stump clung to his dresscoat. It had stopped bleeding at least, but still left huge red spot all over Soldier's garment. He didn't care. He held the man to his body as he tried feverishly to work out what he should do now. These cold but homely walls were covered in blood. The slightly stinging smell of gasoline and beer drowned in copper. This had been once close to a sanctuary. Not only for Engineer. But for him, too.  


 

* * *

  
It was awfully cold. Once again, Engineer found himself in a state of being and not being. Of sudden, terribly wild adrenaline rushes, which crashed just seconds later and left him panting and sweaty and sick.  
  
He felt worse than the time he had fallen into the glazier. There had always been a strange moment of repose a feeling of a light that appears at the end of a very long, dark, clammy, and narrow channel that he squeezed his exhausted body through. This however, felt like the light died out long before he knew there was any.  
  
He was tapping around in total darkness, with everything pressing against him. Squeezing and pushing and tearing at him, it felt like a fly he couldn't catch, a scratch he couldn't scratch, because he couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't hear or breathe. It wasn't long until he realized he, himself, was pressing into him and crushing him by his own weight.   
  
He tried his hardest to wiggle and break free and call for help, but he was stuck, with his own body holding him down attempting to suffocate him. And then he wakes up. Wake up for real. And he wished he could go back to that nightmare, just to escape the pain he feels inside his hand.   
  
Answer me one question – what is worse than having pains in one limb? Maybe two limbs?

Its having pains in a limb that does not exist anymore. Engineer was sweating even though Soldier had turned the temperature in his room down, and regularly pressed a cold cloth on the man's face. Whenever Engineer was awake, he was shaking, breathing heavily, and parched.   
  
“Wa...Water...” He wheezed. He opens his eyes, and sees nothing but blur and funny lights and spots flickering at the corner of his sight. He feels something press to his lips, and he doesn't care what it is, he lets it slip into his mouth and greedily drinks. And then, he slips back into unconsciousness.   
  
He has strange dreams. Dreams of his hand crawling like a spider over his chest and closing around his throat. Dreams of other limbs on his body leaving his body at random. He dreams of large cleavers swirling just inches above his forehead. He also dreamed of a body that shielded him from ice and snow. The rustling of polyester clothes, the sound of a zipper, the soft respiration of another soul in this prison of ice. He feels another heartbeat and he becomes one with it. He dreams of strange shapes hovering above him, a faceless person with a strange headgear. He doesn't know if its evil, this figure. He doesn't feel like it does him any harm when he dreams about it.  
  
He wakes up and stays awake long enough to realize that he was awake in the first place. With each time, he stayed conscious longer than the last. At some point, he opened his eyes, and for the first time, saw something in a clear focus. Well, his sight was still spinning and blacking out frequently – but at least he realize his surroundings. He stared at the concrete ceiling above him, taking minutes to realize what he was looking at. His hand rubbed over the surface he lies on. Soft. Warm.   
  
For a moment, he relaxes. And falls asleep again.  
  
He wakes up, staring back at the same spot on the ceiling above him. This time, he can hear sounds. He hears voices. Muffled by thick walls, passing by and vanishing in the corridor. He listens for a while. It's a strangely familiar voice.   
  
“He's been sick for zhree days straight.” the person said. He sounded very upset. “Please, just let me take a look at him.”  
  
“Negatory.” a second voice said. “Engineer himself commissioned me to keep him away from any medical attention and I will comply.”  
“You can't just keep me avay from a dying patient, Herr Soldat, I am the closest zhing to a medical expert and if I say he needs help, he  _needs_ help.”  
  
There was a strange shuffling noise.   
  
“If you dare getting close to him it will be your last bad decision, Kraut.” the gruffer voice said. “I will not let you in until the order is dropped. DO YOU UNDERSTANT THAT?”  
  
  
Engineer winced hard at the sudden yelling. He groaned and rolled to his side, a task that felt as hard as moving a boulder to the side. He doesn't hear the rest of the conversation outside.   
  
He sleeps again, and wakes up. This time it felt as if he hadn't slept a single second. Funny enough however, he found his mind clearer than any of the previous times he opened his eyes to observe the crack in the ceiling above him. It hadn't moved much.   
And suddenly, it hit him like a tons of bricks – where in heavens name was he anyway? This was not his workshop. And not his room either. Which bed was it he was lying inside? What was this noise?

Engineer's body jerked out of a strange, delayed reaction around him.  
  
He could barely move his head. His heart began suddenly picking up so badly it cut off his breathing for a few moments, ad completely halted as he heard footsteps approaching.  
  
“Wh-Where, wh-who –?” Engineer stammered and frantically fought against the dark spots around hi sight to close up his view again.  
  
He felt a sudden touch on the back of his neck. Then, a slight nudge, until his twirling mid realized someone was propping up his head. Something touched his lips, and yet again he willingly opened up. He drank slowly, until there was nothing left, and sighed as the terrible itching in his throat finally stopped. He forced his eyes open and saw something blur past him. A man, broad shoulders and a taught white tee. His head covered in a solid metallic helmet.  
  
“Solly...” Engineer sighed. He didn't know why, but knowing that he, out of all the people, was here with him was like an answered prayer. Just now did he realize there was the distinctive sound of a spoon softly hitting against a pot. He doesn't really bother to make out and recognize the sound, his head hurt and his hand itched and tingled. He reached forwards and -   
  
There was no itching. Not the feel of nails running over his skin. He opens an eye and looks at his aching hand.   
  
But there hand. Just a stump, a stump covered in a clean, white bandage. Once again, a shiver ran through his body, together with a very delayed jerk of surprise. He gasped. Then a wave of fear and panic rose inside his throat like bile. He started moving, but his limbs felt like they weren't part of his body, heavy and numb and he scrambled to the head of the bed.  
  
“M-My – My hand, it's.. “ he stopped as a distant memory came to his mind. He remembered a huge maw full of teeth and slimy green yeast. He remembered the large breadmonster exploding in a large bomb explosion. He remembered yelling, then a blur. He remembered a cleaver in his hand, smashing down on the table, with his right hand beneath. He remembered screaming, blood, and vomit, and there was also Soldier and …  
  
He heard footsteps approaching, and something scraping along the floor, a chair presumably. Engineer opened his eyes and looked up to the obscured face of the Soldier, looking back at him.  
  
  
“You're awake.” He said.  
  
Engineer swallowed. “Wh-What day is it? Wh-Where am I? What happened– ?”  
  
Soldier placed his hand beneath Engineer's spine, and slowly pushed. Engineer followed suit, either voluntarily, or involuntarily, until he was sitting up. Everything was spinning again, but at least he wasn't passing out again this time.  
  
He saw the room he was in much clearer now. It wasn't his room. But he knew where he was. There wasn't ´much on furniture, but therefore all the more weaponry scattered on the floor. A table in the center with stacked clothes, and paper and pen, a half-emptied cup of coffee. In one corner sat a tall fridge, in the other a lonely sink and mirror, with a razorblade and toothbrush. The walls were cold and monotone, but one of them had the american flag hanging a little lopsided.   
  
This was Soldier's room. He had told Soldier so many times that he should consider making his domicile a little prettier, for it resembled a prison cell more than a comfortable room. He never followed his idea.   
No matter how terribly naked and non-domestic this room was, Engineer felt glad that he was here, and not twenty feet under the soil.

“You must eat. “Soldier said and Engineer looked back at him groggily. He held a bowl with soup in his hand. Engineer instantly felt his stomach turn and he turned away. “No...no...” he shook his head.  
  
“You haven't eten in days.” Soldier stirred the soup to cool it down.   
  
“How many days have passed...?” Engie asked softly.  
  
Soldier huffed and got up. “A week.”  
“I've been sleepin' for seven days...?” Engineer muttered.   
“Negatory. Eight days, fifty eight minutes and three seconds long, precisely.”

Engineer dropped his head back into the pillow. “That's a lotta sleepin'...”  
Silence set in again, with nothing but the silent buzzing from the fridge and the occasional gurgle of water running through the pipes in the walls, and sometimes Soldier shuffling on his chair.  
  
“Ah guess this is a funny thing ta ask, but … what exactly happened?”

“I found you in your workshop huddled in a puddle of your own blood.” Soldier answered truthfully. “And after you mollycoddled sissy vomited all over your own pants, I brought you here to my room. Your clothes are in the laundry and your gear is in my locker, I made sure neither that sputnik or that kraut could get their stinking fingers on your equipment. Speaking of which...”   
  
Soldier sat up and moved to the door, readjusting the shovel he had pressed between the handle and the doorframe and checking if it was bolted and locked. He peeked through the slit at the height of his eyes and looked outside. “That nosy little Fritz was asking for you. I followed your order and told him to get lost before I'll royally kick his ass.”  
  
“Yeah, ah think ah heard that ...” Engineer muttered. “Ya didn't kick his ass though, did ya?”  
  
Soldier closed the eyeslot with a gruff grunt which almost edged towards frustrated disappointment. “No.”  
  
“Good.” Engineer nodded, a weak smile on his face. “Good...”  
  
For a moment, his eyes closed, and he felt laden tiredness wash over him once again. He was sure he would slip back into sleep soon, before he heard the scraping of stool legs over the concrete floor, and he jerked out of his half-slumber.  
He blinked, and was faced with a spoon hovering before his face.  
  
“Ah...” Engineer looked back at the small portion of soup with one or two peas swimming inside. Instantly, his stomach turned. The idea of eating felt so unfamiliar and wrong to him, especially now, and he backed away as far as the pillow he was propped against allowed such.  
  
“No thanks, pardner.”  
“Eat.” Soldier growled.   
“Ah'm not feelin' all to hungry...”  
  
“Irrelevant. This is a can of my very own rations, and I will not let it spoil because you wuss refuse to eat after a whole week - So I suggest you eat.”  
  
Scratch that – it had to be more than a week by now that he had eaten any warm meal. He knew he couldn't avoid the idea of eating any longer, so he swallowed past the lump of bile in his throat, and reached out.  
  
He stopped as he saw his bandaged stump appeared in his peripheral view. Great - Out of all the hands in the world he could have chopped off, it had to be his strong hand. He sighed, and took the spoon with his slightly weaker hand. Half of the spoon spilled over the blankets with how badly he was aiming for his mouth.  
  
Soldier took it away from him, scooped up more soup, and held it in Engineer's direction. He disliked the fact that he had to be fed by another grown man, Soldier out of all the people. He could imagine the military man would gladly use his vulnerable state for the upcoming rantings after a lost match.   
  
  
 _'You sorry excuse of a man who had to be handfed like a toddler!'  
  
_  
Engineer opened his lips, and willingly let the soup slip into his mouth. He sighed as the small warm wave ran down his throat – and instantly he realized just how hungry he was, allowing Soldier to put the next spoonful to his mouth. He felt both full and empty at the same time, his stomach protesting angrily against the food. He groaned softly at the next portion he was offered.  
  
“You will eat.” Soldier repeated. “Or I will crawl into your very body and force it into you.” And the tinkerer obliged.   
  
He managed to eat half of the content before Soldier let him rest. He placed another layer of duvets over the man's body, and switched off the lights. Outside, the grasshoppers chirped and a lone coyote howled at the crescent moon, mixed with the sound of Soldier's respiration. It was a familiar tone. A soothing tone. It overpowered the pain in his arm and the longing to be in his own bed, without the aching in his bones and the waves of fever wraking havoc inside his body. For a moment, Engineer didn't mind all of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really not giving this poor bastard a break, am I?


	9. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reupload since a03 glitched out right when i posted this

As much as Engineer disliked staying in one place without moving much, he began to accustom to his new surroundings. He woke up everyday in Soldier's sparsely lighted room, inside a warm, comfortable bed that smelled of him.  
  
Of war strong cigars, leather and just him.  
  
He would bury his face into the pillows and just listened to the rest of the team outside. Soldier's room was right next to the kitchen, and every morning he enjoyed the soft ambiance of Sniper having a loud argument with Scout over who will get the last bits of strawberry jam, or Heavy making coffee and humming a gruff tune to some classical russian nursery rhymes.  
  
Sometimes he heard Medic's bright laughter after Demo dropped a very inappropriate joke, and sometimes he even heard the commando himself, complaining over the lack of bread. What american household was short on bread, he argued.  
  
“Ya teleported all of that away, ya dummy...” Engineer muttered to himself and rubbed over his eyes.  
  
He missed those mornings with the team, sitting in the mess hall, making lighthearted conversation and enjoying a good breakfast. He missed tinkering in his workshop, and helping Medic cleaning up his laboratory.  
  
  
At some point Soldier suggested him to take a shower. “You smell worse than a private's underwear after his first near-death experience.”  
  
Engineer laughed, for the first time in days, but declined. He couldn't trust his legs to carry and hold him long enough to make it to the bathroom. There was no negotiating with Soldier, though, and thus he found himself being propped up from the bed, his arm slung around the other man's shoulder, and Soldier's arm around his body.  
  
Walking felt absolutely terrible. Every step was heavy and painful; it felt like walking through quicksand, not proceeding any further for the amount of effort it took. He was shaking badly, and everything tingled down below his bellybutton. Like a baby doe taking its first step, they stumbled to the showers. Engineer was lowered onto the bench in the locker room.

“Undress.” Soldier ordered.  
“Soldier, ah told ya ah can't.” Engineer held up his bandaged arm. “It's gonna get wet.”

“Hold still.” Soldier approached, and began unwrapping the man's arm, until the last bits of bandage was taken off. Engineer turned his head away, he didn't dare looking. Surely it had to look absolutely horrendous. It  _felt_  horrendous at least.  
  
It didn't hurt per se, it actually just felt like his hand was stung by a wasp, or had stayed in water for too long. He was constantly tricked by his own mind, plagued by tingles and itches on a limb that was gone.  
  
  
Soldier eased him out of his clothes and walked him to one of the shower stalls, opening up the water. It cascaded down his shoulders, sending a tremble down the mechanics body. Moments later, the warm water set into his skin and into his aching insides and Engineer was engulfed in warm, soothing bliss.

  
There was truly no better feeling than a nice, warm shower that got rid of the sweat and dirt clinging to his skin and the pains and stresses inside his muscles and bones – Didn't even come to his mind to feel a bit ashamed to be out of his clothes in front of the other man. Or that Soldier was positively drenched at this point, still being in his entire uniform, and that he had began leaning against him.  
  
He had his head rested against the man's shoulder and his side pressed into the commando's chest. He blamed the awkward angle he was being held up straight, but even if he could step away, he found himself too drowsy to do so. And Soldier's body was so soft and warm...  
  
He let himself be showered and groggily accepted the bar of soap, running it over his sandy hair and body, but most of that part was helped along with Soldier.  
  
“Lemme soap up mahself.” Engie offered.  
  
“You think after your lousy hygiene performances I would just stand here and watch? I'll show you how a  _real_ soldier scrubs down.” Soldier snarled and rubbed the soap bar into the texan's spine.  
  
Something about the fact that it was just the two of them here felt a little odd and out of place.  
  
It reminded him of the last time they were alone in this shower. That time Soldier had pressed him to the wall and assaulted his lips. He never got an answer out of the stoic military man as to why he did it. Heck, if only he knew why Soldier was even bothering with him right now; Soldier was notorious to be self-centered, with little tolerance towards inconveniences.  
  
Not in a bad way, like Scout perhaps, but in a way that left no part for weaklings in his team.  
  
He just wondered – why him?  
  
For the longest time Engineer believed it was the fact that both of them were americans. Which may be true, to some parts. He was also the only american that could keep up with his age, and level of experience, seeing as Scout was at least two decades younger than him, and boy did he know how little Scout and Soldier got along.  
  
He and Soldier grew up in different times and generations, while Engineer and Soldier had experienced the world in a different, more complicated shape. Then there was the fact that Engineer shared his beer with him and allowed him down in his workshop, Soldier's little sanctuary after his friendship with RED's Demoman broke down.

Maybe, for once, it wouldn't be any harm to just not bother analyzing into it. It felt right. It felt okay, for once, to show weakness and be cared for, even when it's coming from him. He must have slipped a little off of Soldier's shoulder, because a sudden strong arm caught his torso.  
  
  
“Careful.” he rasped, and it brushed against Engineer's ear. His stomach made a strange flop like a stranded fish and another shiver ran down his body. Was he going to be sick again?  
  
  
Before he knew it, he was rinsed down, and Soldier turned off the water. He maneuvered them back to the dressing room, where every bit of warmth was replaced with stinging coldness. Engineer was trembling against the military man, until he was wrapped up in a towel. Soldier didn't bother to dry up, instead helped Engineer back to his room. This man was really not fazed by the cold, was he?  
  
Back inside, he eased the Engineer back into his own bed, then moved to his locker and fish out a clean set of clothes.  
  
  
“Sal?” he asked softly. The Soldier grunted in response, his back turned to the tinkerer.  
“May ah ask where you've been sleepin' all the time ah've been occupying yer bed...?”  
  
Soldier paused for a moment. “I am in no need of beds like the common sissified maggots in this base.” he answered.  
  
“Don't tell me you've been sleepin' in that tiny chair over there.” Engineer nodded towards the stool close to his bed. Soldier paused once more, then began muttering a few excuses.  
“Soldier, ah wouldn't mind sleepin' in mah own bed from now on, yknow? Ah'm not all too eager knowin' I've been takin' yer space away all this time.”  
  
“Negatory!” Soldier blurted. “You are not taking space away, private. I cannot leave you out of sight until your fever has reduced. The Kraut could be lurking behind every corner just waiting to pounce you and drag you into his lab.”  
Engineer managed a tiny chuckle, before his body betrayed him once more, and he fell into a feverish, but dreamless slumber.  
  
  
  
A glance into the life of one Soldier was unique to say the least.  
  
Engineer was, of course, excused from any battle, but since the battles had calmed down for now, he didn't feel any shame about slacking off in a warm and cozy bed and fight his mind out of the fever hazes. He hazily wondered if RED Engineer was in a similar situation like him, that's why there were no assaults on controlpoints.  
  
After lots of bargaining, Soldier allowed visitors to come into his room and say hello. Pyro was the first who entered, instantly pulling his sick friend into a bear hug and breathing huffed gasmask-kisses against Engineer's cheek.  
  
“Ah know, ah know, I ain't nothin' but trouble, ain't I, Pyro...?”  
  
Pyro made an upset huffing noise, but whatever anger he felt was blown off with how relieved the firebug was that his best friend was alive.  
  
Next came Sniper and Demo, with Scout in tow. “We heard yer feelin' loike shite fer a while now.” Demo belched. “S-So we made ye sum banana bread.”  
  
“Aw, ain't that awfully nice of ya. Say uh, what's this here?” Engineer pointed at a lump of something awfully disgusting looking – black and greasy and gritty.  
  
“It's Vegemite.” Sniper explained. “Tis' a breadspread made of yeast.”  
“Yo, don't try that stuff hardhat, it tastes like crap, like seriously,  _literal crap_!” Scout called from the doorframe. Sniper's eyes creased into two tiny, menacing slits.  
  
  
Soldier closed the door after Sniper and Demo left, with Sniper holding Scout in a choke hold, muttering something about 'making him eat a whole jar of it' before the door flung close.  
Soldier eyed the plate of banana bread warily.  
  
“Requesting to investigate the substance the hobbit specified as 'Vegemite'.”  
“By all means, do that...” Engineer handed the plate over to the Soldier. “Ah think ah've had enough of bread for a while.”  
  
Not half an hour later Medic knocked. He and Heavy, although he looked not as golly as his partner did, greeted them and asked if they could speak to him. Soldier was already beginning to growl at the Medic for daring to come back after he told him to scram, but Engineer interrupted him.  
  
“It's okay, Sal. Let 'em in.”  
  
Grudgingly, Soldier stepped aside and let them both enter the room.  
  
  
“Oh my dear friend.” Medic looked at him with compassion. “Zhis is...Zhis is my fault, partly.”

“Doc, don't beat yerself over it.” Engineer smiled tiredly.  
  
“Nein, nein, it's true.” He hung his head. “If I hadn't pushed us so far, hadn't pushed  _you_ so far, you wouldn't be, vell...” Medic eyed the bump under the sheets. “Engie, may I...ah...”  
  
“No you may  _not_.” Came Soldier's response from the foot of the bed. “I know your tricks, Fritz! You'll drag him back into your filthy laboratory when I'm not looking and sew that hand back onto his arm, won't you?”  
  
“Th-That is – how dare you accuse me of such a thing? I did zhis  _once,_  and I apologized.” Medic crossed his arms. “I trust Enginer to have a reason not to see me, alzhough it hurts to know zhat my friend doesn't trust me.” He threw them both a sour glance.  
  
  
“Ah'm sorry doc, ah jus' – ah knew how ya gonna react if'n ya knew.”  
  
“Vhy, Dell? Vhy did you do it? Zhat's all I vant to know.” Medic said.  
  
Engineer sighed, and drew his arm from beneath the covers. Medic gave a startled gasp and quickly adjusted his glasses to have a better look.  
“Ya remember  _that_  blueprint, doc?” Engineer put special emphasis on it to see if he remembered. The way the Medic's face contoured into a shocked, but repulsed face gave him the indication that he did.  
  
“Oh, Dell...” Medic rubbed his fingertips over the bridge of his nose. “I told you monzh ago to zhrow it avay!”

“Ah know, ah know.” Engineer slipped his hand back under the covers. Medic paced around the room, rubbing over his face. Silence set in aside from the quick footsteps of boots on the floor.  
  
Heavy, in the meantime, had begun eating the banana bread that stood on the table. He threw a glance at the wound before it vanished again, then back at the Medic. “Doktor es looking concerned.” he said.  
  
“Of course I am concerned. Ve gonna have to reset all spawns, explain everyzhing to zhe Administrator, ve are gonna call RED and convince zhem to pass on zhe information to zheir Engineer and...oh, zhere is gonna be tons of papervork.  _Tons._ For such an inconvenience. Zhis is gonna take us back on zhe battle schedules, and zhe paychecks _,_ and --” He ran his fingers though his black short hair. “Ve have to sew it back on. Zhis is – nein, zhis is highly inappropriate at zhis moment.”  
  
  
“ _Inappropriate_?!” Soldier spat. He had kept himself out of the discussion so far until now, pushing himself off the wall and approaching. “What do you mean with inappropriate?”  
  
“Ve just recovered from a giant breadmonster attack which make us liable to all damages. Ve vill have to restore zhe base and pay for any damage ve cannot replace, vhich cuts off our paychecks in less zhan a half! Zhis is a huge inconvenience for us, and ve need Engineer's help. He is useless in zhis state of --”  
  
  
“Useless? _USELESS?!_ ” Soldier's face, or whatever was not hidden, turned red like a ripe tomato.  
  
“I do NOT allow such degenerating words coming out of your filthy mouth! Anything the greasemonkey has done for us so far as done nothing but proven to be beneficial for us! He was the one suggesting to file in a request for more weapons! He has been the one fixing and improving all of our armory! He has been the one fighting against our almost-demise while  _you_  have wasted everyone's time with your false diagnostics! – and you petty little son of an antisemitic  _dare_ looking him in the eye and sayi he is useless?!”  
  
  
Heavy had instantly risen from his seat and planted himself only mere inches before the Soldier. He easily loomed over the american by at least a head or two. Piercing blue eyes narrowed down onto the helmeted man;  
  
“Leetle man take back dat.” Heavy snarled.  
“Make me, Stalingrad!”  
"I'll bash head in until helmet ees bowl of brain soup!!"  
  
  
_“Heavy!”  
“Soldier!”  
  
_  
The two mercenaries stopped their insensitive staring and turned their heads to Medic and Engineer.  
  
Engineer was coughing from yelling his name. Soldier almost instantly forgot every bit of anger and rage and willingness to start a fight right here and then to quickly jump to the tinkerer's side, and helped him to drink. Medic and Heavy had their heads put together and silently discussed something in German and russian.  
  
Engineer breathed through the ache in his throat. His still working hand clutched Soldier's shirt.  
  
“Soldier,” he wheezed through his raw throat but his voice was riddled with anger. “Ah can't have ya runnin' round callin' mah friend a son of a nazi. That ain't just doggone wrong, that is downright _despicable_.”  
“But that's exactly what he i--”  
“If ya endin' this there sentence right now,” Engineer threatened. Soldier was going to retort with more vehemence, but found himself not able to speak.  
  
  
Stupid Engineers and their stupid power of making him shut up...  
  
  
“Dell, Herr Soldier...” Medic sighed and turned to them. “I am sorry about vhat I said. I – of course its not an inconvenience; vhat Engineer did, I mean. And of course, he is not useless to us.”  
  
Heavy didn't look at them. Whatever Medic has been berating with him, it had put the giant into submission.  
  
“I am still aggrieved zhat I vas zhe last one learning about zhis, but...I know you two had your reasons not to trust me vith zhis. But I must ask of you to come and visit me later. Just so I can close zhe wound properly before it gets infected.”  
  
“Yer...not sewin' mah hand back on, then?” Engineer asked, perplexed. Medic looked both defeated, as well as curious. “No. As much as I vould love to do zhat – I am also very intrigued to know how useful zhis...Gunslinger proves itself to be.”

* * *

 

Soldier helped Engineer into his boots and into a clean pair of his own fatiques, which were a little tight around his belly and a little too long for his legs, and helped him down the hallway and into the Medic's office. Engineer was eased into a chair beneath a large Medi-ray gun.  
  
“Ach, I hate to miss out zhe sound of a limb being rebuild from its own skin and bones, but … lets get to vork, shall ve?” Medic lamented, as he set the levers on the large Medi-ray down to the lowest energy level. Engineer felt no pain during the procedure, thanks to being constantly healed. It also felt immensely nice to be free of fever for a couple of minutes.

He listened to Medic with half an ear, while trying his best to stay awake and alert.  
“I must say, Engie zhis is one of zhe cleanest cuts I have yet seen! And vith vhat exactly did you cut zhis here?”

“Scout's sushi cleaver.”  
  
“Ahh yes! Zhe japanese craftsmanship is a miracle, isn't it?  _Ach!!_  Soldier, no! Don't touch zhe medifluids!”  
  
A hectic clank of jars echoed across, with a few rambled excuses from Soldiers side. He had grown bored of standing next to Engie's seat and watch folds of skin being sewn back together, so he started roaming.  
  
“It's astounding zhat you survives zhis zhough. A man of your, vell eh – size vould have bled out quickly.”  
“Vell, ye can thank Solly fer that.” Engineer smiled. “He's been there ta keep this ol' thing fixed up.”  
“I must say, he does know his bandages.” Medic nodded.  
  
Engineer had been in too much pain to really register whatever it as that Soldier had done to him to prevent any more loss of blood and possibly death. This had been the second time Soldier had prevented him from dying. The second time Soldier had cared for him and nursed him back to health without asking questions, without caring about his own needs.  
  
A sudden weight dropped from his stomach. For a moment Engineer thought he spontaneously had to throw up, until it stopped and instead set flutters inside his belly. Like little wings flapping and tingling.  
  
  
“Yer should consider makin' him yer apprentice.” Engineer muttered. More to himself than to Medic, really.  
“Him?” Medic looked over his shoulder back to the Soldier, who was awfully interested in examining his set of bonesaws.  “I – vell, err -”  
  
“Ah'm jokin'.” Engineer joked at the Medic's uncomfortable look on his face. “But, you're right. He saved me. Twice now. Knows how ta set bones back into place, and such...He's been pretty good in keepin' me outta trouble lately. Well, he does give me lots back, but – he knows how ta fix it. Knows how ta fix me...”  
  
  
“Vell, I guess you do learn some tricks at zhe military.” Medic continued sewing, until he stopped. He looked up to Engineer as if something suddenly dawned to him. Engineer wasn't looking at him. His drowsy eyes were set on Soldier, and Medic followed his gaze, and back to the texan. Back to Soldier, and back to Engineer.  
  
  
“Oh.” he muttered in understanding. “Oh...” Then, a broad, toothy smile appeared on his face. One that wrinkled his face and warmed the curious glint in his electric blues.  
  
“Somethin' funny?” Engineer asked as he noticed it, too.  
“Ohh, Nein, nein.” Medic tried, but failed, to set his face back to stoic concentration as he went back to slipping the needle into Engineer's skin. “Don't vorry about it.”

After ten more minutes, Medic snapped a scissor on the threads. “Zhere ve are! All fixed up. Engineer, you can vake up now.”  
  
“Hm, uh, wha?” Engineer blinked drowsily. He rubbed over his face with his hand. “We're done already?”  
  
He lifts his arm. A row of zickzacks stretched over the taut, darkened skin, keeping them together. The medi-beam thankfully reduced the ugly spots and veins until it fully healed into a rounded, flesh-colored stump with threads.  
  
Engineer ran his fingers over it.  It didn't hurt. Probably because he mostly lost all feelings at the top, which slowly regained itself once he touched further down.  
  
“I-I know its, vell, it's not zhe prettiest sight. It might never truly heal up eizher. Zhere might be scars left, or patches of bones breaching through skin. A-And of course phantom pains, and...”  
Engineer looked up to the Medic. He wore a concerned face, his gloved fingers rubbing nervously over each other. But Engineer shook his head with a smile.  
  
“No need ta worry, doc. Ya did a mighty fine job with this.” He rubbed the stump. No pains. No blood anymore. Even some color returned to his face after spending some hours in the healing beams.  
  
  
“Hey Sal! Where ya at?”  
  
Soldiers approach was heralded with loud clanking and rumbling as he seemed to be tripping over medical equipment. He came stumbling to the chair Engineer was sitting on, one hand draped behind his back, the other flat at his helmet.  
  
“Sir, at your service, sir!” Soldier boomed.  
  
“Yikes, Sal, a little, lower.” Engineer hissed.  
  
“Apologies, sir!” Soldier answered, his voice only half as loud.  
  
“Here, have a look.” Engineer stretched his arm into Soldier's direction. “Medic did some fine job, didn't he?”  
  
  
Soldier eyed the bandages warily, like he was comparing Medic's work with his very own bandaging skills. Yet he seemed to have no reasons to contradicts.  
“This is highly acceptable. Son, you made me proud.” And he gave the doctor a brotherly slap on the shoulder, which made the poor man's knees give in.  
  
“O-Ouch. Ah, vell, now, if you feel somezhing out of zhe ordinary, let me know. Ach I still wished I could have sewn your hand back into place. I havent sewn anything to flesh and skin in  _veeks_!”  
  
“Well, err. Speaking of that, I'll have one last favor to ask,” And Soldier finally slipped his other hand from behind his back.  
  
His hand was missing. And a gush of blood streamed down his arm and soaked his coat. “I had a little accident with your bonesaws, doc.” And he drew the missing limb from his pocket.  
  
“Darn.” Engineer muttered.  
“ _Ohh!_ ” Medic's eyes grew into two, mirth-filled saucers.

* * *

  
It was late evening, the sun setting slowly and leaving the sky in a soft pink, when Spy knocked on Soldier's door. After a few elegant evening greetings, and apologizing for the late visit too, Engineer coaxed Soldier to open the door for him. He had, how considerate of him, not brought bread as a gift. Instead, he bid a them a fare evening, and placed a bottle of red wine next on the night table.  
  
“I've been informed about ze sucess of yeur surgery. So I thought I vould bring a little gift with me." he drew his fingertip over the neck of the bottle. "I do 'ope you are a man of delicate taste.”  
  
Engineer wasn't, by any means. As a man from the south, usually the only two options he has had in his youth was beer, and a bottle of Jack Daniels, and that was all Engineer needed. He never had a taste for the so called 'finer' and 'fancier' swill they offered on event Engineer never attended.  
  
“Oh, that's, uh – shucks Spy, ya shouldn't have!” he grabbed the wine bottle and eyed the name. “A Chato – uh, Chato...”  
  
“Château La Couspaude .” A sly smile played around the Spy' lips. “One of zhe, mmh, let me call it –  _exquisite_ choices.”  
  
Engineer blinked at him. “Y-Yer not tellin' me you've spend a fortune on this, right?”  
  
Spy cocked his head back into his shoulders with a soft, drawn-out laughter. “Oh, non, non, don't vorry about zat. Let's just say – a little more rigor for security wouldn't harm zhe american wine depots.”  
  
  
Soldier had pressed himself into the corner of the room next to the door, arms crossed over his chest, staring daggers into the Spy's back. He gave a gruff sneer that caught the french's attention.  
  
  
“Ah, Soldier. I take it you are the one taking care of our laborer.”  
“Affirmative.” Soldier said dryly.  
“Oui.” Spy nodded. “Afteur zhe collective  _mess_  you 'ave dragged us, and especially Engineer into, zat should be zhe least you could do to make up for it, non?”  
  
“Americans don't desert other americans in times of great duress, Spook. You wouldn't know.”  
“True, I wouldn't. I would know 'owever when to prevent an evitable distasteur.”  
“Agreed - you frenchies are a doozie when it comes to  _surrendering,_ aren't you?”  
  
  
Spy sat up so suddenly that Engineer's heart stopped in his chest. Spooks were the most unpredictable creatures alive, and the tinkerer feared for a whole moment that he would draw a gun and shoot the Soldier in the head without the blink of an eye.  
  
Turns out, Spy did not do such a thing. Engineer caught the man's fingers twitching over the handle of his gun – then, moving to slip into his suit pocket and draw out a cigarette. With a calmness that radiated danger more than tranquility, he lit it up, and took a long drag.  
  
“I would like to remind you zat it had been me, among ze otheur team members zat have fought, and ultimately defeated ze monsteur you 'ave created vith your very 'ands. In ze meanwhile, you 'ave been 'avin' a laugh as that enormous menace of a breadmonteur used you as its personal bouncy ball. Wouldn't it 'ave been to everyone else in zis base, Engineer especially, ve all vould be dead, presumably – eitheur by ze fangs of your creation, or an malfunctioned deathwatch.”  
  
Spy had inched closer, towering over Soldier by half a head.  
  
  
“I will not negotiate my motives with someone like you, crouton!” Soldier snapped back. “I have never had any doubt Engineer would pull us out of this situation faster than you'd know it, and I do not tolerate any critique on him and his or my contribution.”  
  
“Your  _contribution,_  if you could even call it zat, was putting everyone at dangeur for your selfish, own entertainment, in case zat information has passed you.” Spy blew a plume of smoke into the Soldier's face.  
  
Engineer bit his lip and metally prepared to have Soldier knock him out here and now. Instead Soldier's lips curled over his teeth into a scowl.  
  
  
“ARE YOU IMPLYING I HAVE NOT DONE MY PART AS AN ASSET TO THIS TEAM?!”  
  
“Non.” Spy retorted as calm as a man who just had been screamed at could act. “What I'm implying is zat, vithout you, Monsieur Engineer would not be in ze situation he is at zis very moment. I might dare saying, he should consideur if he isn't better off with, well – with  _betteur_ company.”

Soldier was suddenly as quiet as a church mouse. Although his face was still obscured, the expression of utter bewilderment slowly got clearer by the second. Something inside Engineer's chest cramped painfully at the sight of that stoic facade breaking.  
  
“So before you put your grudge on someone for not sharing your percentage of brain capacity,” Spy continued. “You should consideur looking at yourself in ze mirror for once in a while.”  
  
“ _P-Pah!_  Nothing's easier than that!!” Soldier snarled defiantly and swirled around – staring into the small mirror hanging above his sink.  
  
  
The chuckle that echoed from Spy's chest was dripping with sadism.  
“Gentleman,” he turned to the engineer and nodded. “Have a good night.”He left through the door, closing it behind him.  
  
  
Engineer felt sick. Spy's words hung like a thick cloud in the room that wavered around his bed, the smell of cheap cigarettes clinging to his covers.  
  
Whatever Spy said, as much as Engineer disliked to admit it, had been true to some extend; but it wasn't fair to say that whatever misery came down Engie's way was Soldier's doing. It wasn't his fault that Engineer had tried to hunt down a problem that was right before his eyes all along.  
  
It wasn't his fault that he had strained himself to the point of collapsing. It wasn't his fault that he had accidentally created a huge breadmonster. Well, yes, it was actually – but nobody could possibly have foreseen what would have happened, not even Engineer himself.  
  
  
He looked over to him, still staring angrily into the mirror. His chest tightened painfully and he swallowed. “Soldier, Spy didn't mean ya should be... you don't have to...” He sighed. “Jus' let it go.”  
  
Soldier huffed, his hands balled into fists.  
“I'll get that spook.” he snarled and grabbed his shovel.  
  
“Soldier, no!” Engineer called. “Please don't. This team can't handle more gore and violence right now, just – let's forget what he said. Okay, pardner?”  
Soldier had his back turned to the Engineer.  
  
“Okay?” the texan repeated.  
  
Soldier didn't answer. He dropped the shovel with a rough clank, and marched over to the table, slumping down on one of the chairs. He didn't talk. Didn't look at him. Instead, for the next couple of hours, Soldier busied himself with cleaning his shotgun a little too rudely than he probably should be. Sometimes he would rise from his seat and leave, without saying a word, returning later and going back to cleaning his weaponry.  
  
Engineer had picked up a book, one he had asked Soldier to fetch from his workshop. He tried concentrating on the story line and each dialogue but found himself repeating the same phrase again and again, for his mind was somewhere else completely, and he looked over the cover of the book occasionally to check on Soldier.  
  
“If' ya clean that there weapon for any longer, yer soon gonna shoot bubbles instead of bullets.” Engineer chuckled tiredly. Soldier stopped scrubbing, but didn't reply, or turn around. He placed his shotgun aside, replacing it with one of his shovels.  
  
“Yer holdin' up, pal...? You've been awfully quiet since the spook left...”  
“I am fine.” Soldier retorted. It didn't sound all too convincing in Engie's opinion.  
  
“Yer sure?” he probed.  
“If you are implying that I care about what the croissant said, in any way, you are dead wrong, toymaker.”  
  
Ah. So it was about that after all.  
  
“Right. So, speakin' of that... now that we got the elephant in the room already,” Engineer placed the book on his lap. “I guess ah do deserve to know somethin' from you.”  
  
Soldier stopped cleaning, yet still didn't look back at him. Engineer took a deep steeling breath.  
“I would like to know why you teleported all that bread in the first place.”

Soldier's shoulder squared, he could see it in the way his shoulder's moved under the shirt he wore. He didn't say a word for a whole minute, and Engineer was about to drop the subject again and reached for his book.  
  
  
“I wanted to help.”  
  
Engineer looked up from his book and to the man sitting at the table. He wasn't facing him with his back anymore, yet still hadn't turned around all the way.  
  
“You wanted to help? Whom?”  
“You.”  
Engineer's brows furrowed. “Ah don't think ah quite follow, Sal.”

The Soldier sucked on his lower lip. Again, he took a while to reply.  
  
“You and the Medic, you were constantly in your laboratory and you were in your workshop and doing all this science mumbo jumbo. I know you don't allow me to get anywhere near your equipment of the Kraut's laboratory – and none of these other bunch of women and maggots even bothered to be any assistance for you. So...I thought...”  
  
Engineer understood. He didn't quite know if he should find this humorous, or terribly pitiful. It pulled at the corner of his lips, but at the same time, his heart clenched painfully inside his chest.  
  
“Ah...Ah didn't know.” Engineer admitted softly. “Ah thought 'tis was jus', uh. Well. Yknow. One of yer moments.”  
“Moments?” Soldier echoed. He looked just as lost as Engineer felt.  
“Well, yknow, when yer, err...” he waved his hand. No need to further burden the man with anxieties.  
  
They didn't touch the topic anymore until Engineer had set his book down and switched the lights off, with Soldier still rubbing a cloth over his collection of shotgun.  
  
"I know it was my fault." Soldier said then, softly. He probably didn't think Engineer would hear him, for he spoke so softly, Engineer craned his head from the pillow.  
  
"Hm?" Engie muttered. Soldier stayed quiet for a while once more, then proceeded: "The teleporter. The breadmonster. I know what I did was wrong."  
Engineer didn't reply. That was...something coming from Soldier. Who never admitted that he's in the wrong.

"If you wish, you do not have to talk to me again. Perhaps for once that slug sucking, sleazy rat is right - maybe it is for the better."

"Sal, no, that ain't true." Engineer pushed the blanket off of him. "What spy said was utter...utter..."  
"Bullshit?" Soldier sneered. "I know when someone lies to me, greasemonkey."  
  
He heard boots shuffle over the floor.  
  
"You think I'm dumb." Soldier said. "I know you do. I do not need your sugarcoated sweettalk. I know you think I do not know what's right from wrong. And that you keep me away from your work on purpose."  
"Solly -"  
"I do not tolerate any of this behavior. Deceiving your commander and the team is traitorous and an offense to me. "

Engineer stood now. He didn't really see here he was walking, but he hoped it was towards the other man. "Listen, Soldier. If ye know when people lie to ya, yer flat terrible at it." he took a deep breath. For some reason, it was hard to breathe with the painful twitch inside his guts.  "I did not lie to ya once. If a told yer ya stupid, ah told you because yes, ye were doin' something doggone wrong. Ah tried mah very best ta give you the benefit of the doubt at all situations, and treat yer fair, and with respect."

If Soldier was going to respond, he was taking his time with it.  
"What spy said, yes. It's true to some extends. Painfully true so, but most of what he said is unfair and bigoted. Ah do not care what the spook says. And neither should you. He has no conrol over what you, or ah'm thinkin' and doin'."   
  
He reached out, hoping to find him in the dark. His fingertips touch something soft. Something he's sure is fabric, and skin. He smooths his finger over the patch of warm skin, to realize he is touching the side of the man's neck. He felt him tense beneath his touch. He knows he should draw away, but there wa something keeping him from stepping back, and something that pushed him. He wanted to hold him. Touch him. Anything that might tear down the last bit of doubt he has.   
Soldier steps away at last.

  
"Go to sleep, Engie." Soldier said. His voice was deep and vacuous. He hears him shuffle again, then footsteps. The door opened, and light flooded into the room for a short moment as Soldier leaves, closing the door, and filling the room with darkness again.

  
  
  
The next day, Soldier was called back into the team for a quick emergency battle on Swiftwater. Those sneaky RED bastards, although warned that the BLU team was lacking a team mate, thought they could slither around the ceasefire and push a landmine into their weaponry cargo train, now that their chances of winning were higher.  
  
Or so they thought at least.  
  
There was no way Engineer could work on the battlefield, missing a limb. His strong hand, at that. Medic suggested taking a second respawn from one of the other mercenary to make their number even. That was usually the last resort when a teammate had to be exchanged temporarily, and nobody liked doing it. Having a second yourself at the front line was a true pain in the ass, and not often the mercenaries got straight up physical with their own copies.  
  
Engineer sighed, and set his book back on the small night table. He had decided that this would be the day he would return to his own four walls. To get better sleep, and to work on the gunslinger. And, as well as to ease some of the awkwardness from the night before.   
  
As much as he liked the presence of Soldier when he was domestic as a roughened war maniac could be, he knew he had to come back to his workshop eventually. There was no doubt it was starting to catch dust down there. And he missed the soft buzzing of machinery in his ears when he slept.  
  
  
Although, he never felt this strange and uneasy approaching his workshop. A little shaky he opened the door, and flicked on the lights. The smell that shot into his nose made him dizzy. Blood. He had no windows in his underground room, and the door had been locked throughout his stay in Soldier's quarters.  
  
Usually, blood was the least thing he was bothered by, he saw, smelt and tasted it on nearly a daily base. But this was just completely different. He dreaded coming back and seeing the shed as he had left it - a mess, with blood everywhere, even worse, his own hand, blue, cold, rotting, lying there on the floor.  
  
Engineers legs grew weak and stopped following his commands. They came to a shaky stop and Engineer grabbed the handrail for balance, else he was sure he was going to tumble down the rest of the steps.  
  
“Its okay, breathe.” he told himself, sucked in a deep inhale, and proceeded. The last couple of stairs felt like eons to climb down, until his foot set down on solid, concrete ground. And finally, everything set back into place inside his mind.  
  
He closes his eyes, takes another breath, exhales long and steeling. And opens his eyes again.  
  
It's still his workshop. His home.  
  
  
The relaxing buzzing of the waterboiler in the center, and several sentries set to guard his door slowly turned from alien to familiar. The smell of blood faded until it was a mere part of this room. He set down the box of all the thing Soldier had retrieved from his workshop to his room, books, his reading glasses, toothbrush and aftershave.  
  
He had also had cleaned up the drafting table he had tumbled over, had stapled his blueprints and notes into a large, but unsorted pile on the table surface. Engineer's grinned softly to himself. It may have taken him a while to register it – but gosh darn, Soldier could be quite a friend if he wanted to. Loyal and good-natured. Sentimental if he wanted to. And yes, a little daft at points. But who wasn't?  
  
 Engineer still smiled as he looked through the stack of papers, until he found the folded, slightly blood-covered blueprint of the gunslinger.  
  
The smile faded from his face. Wow. Well – _wow._ Has he completely overseen the sheer amount of refined metal he was going to need for this when he ripped his hand off? He was quite sure he had never seen that much required spare parts for a single construction.  
  
“Ya gotta be pullin' mah leg here...”  
  
A little nervous, he shuffled over to his crates, and looked inside. Of course. Seems like skipping the post-battle scrap collecting did pay its price for him. Most of them were empty, or barely had anything left, and most of the parts that wereuseful he had to take for the next mission, or else he would be stuck with a level one sentry for the entire battle. And truly, scrap material wasn't growing on trees.  
  
He sighed. And rubbed his hand over his face. “Well, guess ah gotta get back to the battlegrounds after all.”  
  
If he was lucky, he might leave with a good amount of parts to use later on. He considered asking Demo to help him out with collecting the enemies weaponry to dismantle later on. Maybe Heavy too. Or maybe...  
  
He was about to take out his old overall when he paused. He could also just ask Solly, right? He usually hung around with him after battle anyway, surely he wouldn't mind lending him a hand gathering some leftovers later on. Right?  
  
“Nah.” Engie shook his head suddenly. “He's mad with me, ah know it. Can't do that.”  
  
Engineer took the overall off the hook inside the narrow locker he had, brushed some dust off of the fabric. Besides, he thought, post-battle Soldier usually was hard to simmer down as it was. He knew the sudden crash of adrenaline, the longing for a face to smash into with bare knuckles, a heavy drink, a strong cigarette and greasy food. Engineer usually knew how to control himself, but Soldier – there was a reason people avoided him, after all.  
  
Engineer rubbed over the faint wrench emblem on the front of his overall, which used to be black, but has been washed out into a faint blue over the years. Maybe, if he gave Soldier an honest task after battle, he could keep him distracted from his lingering anger. Maybe talk things out? He wanted very badly to do that. If Soldier went on with the idea that he, probably his only friend, thought so bad of him, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep at night anymore.  
  
  
_You think I'm dumb. I know you think I do not know what's right from wrong. And that you keep me away from your work on purpose.  
_  
  
"I gotta do this right this time." He muttered. He had to. Soldier deserved this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations yall, you passed through eight chapters of terrible slowburn. Next chapter and from there ongoing will be more fluff and angst


	10. Building

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy [ BELATED] New year errbody! You all got some nice New year resolution? Mine's to finally finish this fanfiction hah!
> 
> Also a quick note about a few things: I apologize profusely for constantly publishing chapters that are RIDDLED with grammatical errors or words written wrong and all. All I write is un-beta'd, so thats the only excuse I have, and sometimes i am too lazy to go through such long chapters again and again to check.
> 
> To make up for the long wait for every chapter as well, I have created a public Google doc page where I publish small previews of the chapters I'll publish in future.  
> Its here. Feel free to check it out! There's not much yet but as I write I'll add more and more to it :P
> 
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/15HB6yI-3fR14hIRUv5CJfxCZoCwvIoSxScCXGow0BFQ/edit?usp=sharing

“Mister Conagher, I'll get straight to the point.” 

The smell of smoke clinging to the room with no windows was thick in Engie's throat. The only light source available came from a gigantic set of monitors above the table the dainty, tall figure sat at.

Another plume of smoke, before bony fingers pushed the half smoked cigarette into the ashtray. “We are at danger. Or rather – _I_ am in danger.”  
  
“Ma'am?”  
  
Something was fishy. The administrator usually did not introduce him to classified information, none like this at least. Engineer was positive the reason she had called him in was to refill the australium phials.  
  
“We have a problem – a major problem. You do remember the rumors of a third, missing Mann brother, no?”  
“Ah do,” he said. “Is...is he --?”  
“Indeed.” the tall woman fetched a new smoke. “And he eliminated his brothers.”

Engineer felt a cold sweat break out on his face. “He killed Blutarch and Redmond? But the Life extender – ”  
  
“A silly contraption cannot make you immortal, Conagher – it only protects you from the tedious inevitable death from old age. And even that is limited.”  
  
Silence. Engineer pushed down his goggled. “That means we're...”  
  
“Unemployed. Yes. My condolences. But that's not the point, Conagher. The point is – Gray now aims to destroy the rest of Mann Co as well.”  
“And how's he gonna do that?”  
  
The Administrator pushed a few buttons on her control panel. The tv screens buzzed, then, a picture appeared. The Engineer stepped closer. For a moment, he was sure it showed BLU Heavy. But upon closer look, he realized this there was not Heavy. Not their Heavy. Heck, not even a human for all intents and purposes.  
  
“Robot's, Conagher.” the female voice explained. “He plans on taking Mann Co over with robots. You may find an uncanny resemblance to our russian Heavy Weapons specialist. But there's more.”  
  
Another click of a button. Like a slideshow, Engineer stared back at the cold, rusty image of a robot that looked just like Scout. And one like Medic. One like Demo, one like Spy – A soldier one.  
  
And, Engineer gulped thickly – an Engineer one.  
  
He stared back at the lifeless metallic figure so eerily resembling himself. A wave of nausea hit him. What kind of sick individual must that Gray Mann be to intentionally create a copied army of their own team?

“H-How? When –?”  
“We don't know. Fact is, this is a major threat, especially to me, to your grandfathers work, and everything that wears the Mann Co label, Conagher.”  
  
The large chair turned. Cold eyes, with the softest gleam of gold, glared back at him. “He wants the Australium. The last bit that exists.”  
Engineer stared between her. Back to the Robot on screen. Back to her.  
  
“Who else knows?”  
“No one.”  
“Pauling?”  
“Pauling will know sooner or later. For now, I like to keep my business a situation between you and me.”  
  
Engineer frowned. If Pauling didn't know, but Engineer out of all the people had the privilege to know...  
  
“Where is this goin', Ma'am?” he asked warily.  
  
“The circumstances call for urgent measures, Conagher. Gray is on his way to send armies of robots our way. I already contacted Saxton Hale to send every bit of australium he has to me. I alone have the last cache of it and I will protect it with every bit of life that's still inside me.”  
After a long pause, she looked from the screen back to the man.  
“Unfortunately, I do not trust Saxton Hale. That imbecile has sold his company multiple times to the wrong people for the worst reasons, one of them was a 'rare gold-toothed tiger', which turned out to be a dog with painted on stripes. He has used his sheer physical power to get back what he wants but this time, I fear, he will not fight to get his company back once Gray takes it over. And he will take it over, one way or another I reckon...And I have to stay alive until then. ”  
  
They stared at each other for a long while. “You are not to tell anybody. You are not to speak about this to anyone. Not Pauling, not your team, not your closest relatives. Understand that?”  
  
Engineer did not answer, but the faint bow of his head indicated he understood clearly.  
  
“You will prepare for an emergency getaway. You will take everything you have that's of value to _me._ You will take every gear of your workshop and take it with you once the moment comes we both have to leave.”  
“Where will we be goin' to?”  
“You'll see once the time comes.”

“Fer how long?”  
“As long as it's necessary.”  
  
Engineer's grip around his helmet tightened. He was about to open his mouth -  
  
“No, Conagher, this is no matter of choice. You will accept. Else I'll have you, your entire family, and every trace of your existence, and everyone you hold dear, wiped from this very planet. And I mean, _everyone._ ”  
  
A shudder ran through the man's body. Grey, colorless eyes stared back at him intensely. She took a long drag from her cigarette.  
  
“I know you are spending an unhealthy amount of time with one of you team colleagues.” she said, very calmly, and very slowly. Menacingly slow. “I want you to understand that any mistake you do, any attempt to deceive or abandon me will cost both your heads. Yours, and _his._ Is that clear, Conagher?”  
  
Engineer's knees felt very mushy and weak all of the sudden. How much exactly did she know? Did she know about Soldier's training plan for him? About their sexual encounter in the tiny freezing shed in Snowplow? About the trainwreck? About Soldier playing nurse for him? Every little bit they did, said, spoke about and discussed?  
Probably everything, he reasoned with himself. For whenever he thought he had a moment that kept him and his friend away from the eyes of the world, he was reminded it was a facade.  
  
He swallowed. Then, nodded.  
  
“Good.”  
  
Once again, she pressed the half-smoked cigarette down into the overfilled ashtray, and stood.  
“I will see you in the medical room in ten minutes.”  
  
“Ma'am, yer said yourself there ain't much left – “  
“There will be enough left, Conagher. Enough to settle a debt, for sure. And please get that horrendous stump of yours a new hand. I will issue new scraps to the battlefield on monday.”

* * *

 

“What do you think you are doing, maggot?”  
  
Engineer looked up from the piece of metal he held in his hand. True and behold, he knew who was standing above him before he even looked up. The disapproving snarl of the Soldier was both hard to stand and simultaneously a ray of hope for the Engineer.  
  
King of the hill missions usually left him feeling exhausted but overall more satisfied than most missions. And in favor of his lost limb.  
  
After a few calculations and tries to find a spot that offered shelter from enemies projectiles and stayed hidden from sniper's, scout's and spy's eyes, while dealing enough damage to keep their point protected, they had successfully captured Harvest for themselves.  
  
  
The autumn sun left a pleasant warm burn on his face as he let the dust settle, and waited for the enemy team to pack their shit and leave before Soldier got them again. Then, his task began.  
  
  
He had arrived later than the rest, in his own blue rusty pickup. Trunk filled with crates. And then, he began collecting. Leftover weaponrys. Dropped ammunition. Large pieces of scraps that were plunged off of old cars, fridges, lockers, whatever he found on the dump behind the fences and inside the battlefields. He had honestly not expected anybody to have stayed. But there he was, crouching down on the smooth metallic surface of the controlpoint, shining in a steely blue, to pick up and dismantle the barrel of a minigun, when the creak of two leatherboots came to a halt right before his nose.  
  
  
Engineer looked along the length of the man's legs until his eyes met with the shadowed face of the Soldier. He blinked a few times against the bright sunlight stinging in his eye. Blood sprinkles covered the rough weather-beaten skin of the man. Dirt caked his boots and his pants, and his jacket was shredded at some places. He smelled of blood, smoke, and heated skin. His heart was suddenly filled with a tinge of sadness.  
  
Behind tinted glasses, Engineer's eyes flickered along the landscape, searching for a sign she was watching. Then the Engineer smiled. It felt easier to smile at him after the emotional dry spell they had he found.  
  
“Well, what ah'm usually doin'.” Engineer said calmly. “Gatherin' some scraps.”  
  
“Are you _mocking_ me, comrade?” Soldier snarled back. Engineer felt a sudden hard nudge at the rim of his helmet. Blinking, he was suddenly face to face with the unsafe side of a shotgun's barrel. His stomach dropped. His eye flickered back up to the Soldier. He looked positively pissed, and Engineer felt suddenly very uneasy.  
  
  
“The rules are nobody heavily injured is allowed after lockdown. And we -” another nudge. “Are in-” a third nudge. “FULL LOCK DOWN!!”  
  
Now it was Engineer's turn to look uptight. With a grunt, he shoved the shotgun out of his face. “If yer would stop pokin' yer gun into mah face,” he hissed.  
  
“I have no pity with greenbeaks that think they can teeter around the regulations.”  
  
Engineer sucked in a deep steeling breath. Stay calm, he said to himself. Getting mad now was not going to solve things. Besides, if Soldier was telling the truth, and he was usually when he recited the teams provisions, he may be in trouble.  
  
“Regulations that apply if ah'm an old, tottery grandad. Which ah'm not yet, Mister. What ya think might happen? A coyote steals me away? Ye think ah can't keep mahself safe?”  
“Rules are rules, and need to be acknowledged! BESIDES – there are worse things then coyotes out there! There could be a slippery backstabbing frogleg on the loose.”  
  
  
The colorful world of insults that Soldier had started to form for the Spy seemed to have increased ever since their own spook had visited them. Not a coincidence, he supposed.  
  
“Ah'm appreciatin' yer general worry fer me but ah'm jus' here ta fill up mah crates, Sal. Is all. After that ah'ma be on my way again, alright?”  
  
Soldier looked down towards the scrap metal in Engineer's hand. Then back to Engineer. Then back to the piece of metal.  
  
“You never take such large pieces back to the base.” he concluded.  
“Yer right, ah don't usually.” Engineer ran his hand and stump over his overall to smooth it down as he stands again. “But ah need as much as I can grab. Fer this here.” he would have wiggled the fingers on his right hand, if he still had them.  
  
Soldier cocked his head, and finally, lowered the gun. “You need scrap metal for your arm?”  
  
  
“Remember the gunslinger ah told y'all about? Apparently ah need tons of this here stuff ta build it. So, ah'm takin' everythin' ah find.”  
Engineer supposed that would leave the Soldier with a satisfying answer, so he crouched down again to pick apart the minigun. Soldier didn't budge.  
He watched carefully as Engineer struggled to tear the casing off of the barrel. Soldier gave a grunt as he knelt next to him. His large calloused hands gripped the edge of the sharp metal and tugged. It slipped off easily. Engineer's face felt a little hot beneath the helmet.  
  
“Thanks.” Engineer muttered, as he slipped his handless arm back into the pocket of his overall.  
  
“How much do you intend to pick up from here?”  
  
“Ye see those crates over there?” Engie pointed to his truck. “Gotta fill em up to the brim. And the trunk as well.”  
Soldier harrumphed. “With your current pace you will be on it until the war is over. You are to report back to the base by nightfall!”  
  
“Phew, nightfall ye say?” Engineer propped his fists into his sides, looking up into the sky. “Well, suns not down fer a while. Ah still have time then, don't I?”  
“You – !“ Soldier ground his teeth. “As your commander I – !”  
“Look, pardner - if yer have time on yer hands ta lecture me, ya could help me out some bit as well, don'cha think?”  
  
It appeared as if Soldier had not expected that. He squared his shoulders, the straps of his helmet swaying as he jerked his head back.  
  
“Do I appear to you as a common trash picker, maggot?!”  
Engineer shook his head. “Nah, but – I'd jus' appreciate the help.” And then he smiled at the taller man with a friendly, lopsided smirk.  
  
Soldier wiggled from one foot to the other. He looked down, grumbled something, then slowly holstered his shotgun over his shoulder. Seemed that openly talking about his feelings was making the commando a little uncomfortable.  
  
“Fine, gearpants! I'll help you. By nightfall, we're out of here.”  
“Deal!” Engineer beamed.  
  
  
  
The next couple of hours, the only two souls out in the dry planes of harvest, collecting metal.  
  
At first it was a little hard to explain Soldier that he needed scrap parts that were not small and flimsy, and he could not use empty bullet shells or knocked out teeth and bones. But Engineer did his best to try and find some use to them. Soldier brought an eyeball to him.  
  
“This oughta be the RED Engineer's ones!” Soldier said triumphantly. He was right. His very own soft green eyecolor stared back at him. Engineer winced at first, then turned it to inspect it. He smiled and nodded, and put it in a crate. It was unlikely that he would use it – but surely Medic would love to store it. It may have been small things, but with each, Engineer noticed the Soldier was starting to enjoy this little activity.  
  
Soldier would grab anything he found to bring back to the texan. They varied from rusty trash, empty soupcans and lightbulbs to pipes, parts of cars and even a huge metal gate. He said he found it lying around, yet a quick glance at the enemy's spawn revealed that Soldier had been looting it all along. It was barely even a room to start with, with doors, walls, and even tiles from the floor missing. Engineer slapped his knee in a fit of laughter.  
  
“Whats so funny?!” Soldier growled.  
“Ah, nothin' nothin'.” he brushed off a tear from beneath his goggles. And as at first Engineer told Soldier they should not rob RED's respawn place because that was immoral and a rotten thing to do, he eventually forgot about that too, and simply joined Soldier with dismantling the framework.

“These sons-a-bitches won't even know what hitt'em.” Engie laughed and Soldier joined with his rough guffaw.  
  
Slowly the crate filled up and they simply began throwing it into the trunk and the backseat. They stopped caring for all they were busy with was joking about the RED team finding themselves in whatever they did not carry away from the spawnroom, and the hilarious face they would make once they realized it. Which lead them into more stories of very funny experiences they had inside, and outside battle.  
  
  
“And then that one-eyes scottish twat broke both his legs and tumbled off the nearest cliff!”  
  
Engineer gasped for air from how much he laughed. The pure image alone was morbid, yes, but goddamn it was just as funny.  
  
“And, and, and one time he charged at me with his little flimsy butterknife of his, and I just pulled my shotgun, and BOOM!” Soldier threw his hands up. “His head exploded in all directions, like a firework on the fourth of July!”  
  
“Oh god, oh mah god.” Engineer wheezed. “Ya gotta stop else yer killin' me.”  
  
  
Their laughter died slowly, leaving them in a soft, comfortable afterglow of laughter. For a moment, he gladly forgot the conversation he had just days ago with the Aministrator that constantly sat in his neck like a pesky tick. Engineer tugged his goggles down and brushed his finger over his eyes to brush the tears away.

“If you think THAT'S to die for, you should take a look at the expression on that city boy's face when I made a clean cut through his neck.”  
“Ah, I wish ah could've.”  
  
  
“You wanna?”  
  
  
Engineer's laughter died into a soft chuckle, raising his head and blinking against the sun to look back at the man. “Wanna what?”  
  
“See it.” Soldier said, shoulders squared. He seemed very antsy all of the sudden, a little like a giddy child on christmas.  
  
Engineer frowned. “Err -”  
  
“Wait here!” Soldier quickly said, turned, and ran off towards the abandoned building.  
  
It took Engineer a mere couple of minutes to understand what Soldier was referring to. He had led him to the outside of the battlegrounds, close to a farmhouse and the fence.  
The trail of blood in the sand was a little alarming at first, until the texan came face to face with the cold, dead eyes of the enemies' Heavy. Cold, blanched eyes with merely a hint of color in them. Skin dead and pale. Throat slit, through skin, muscles, bones.  
  
A faint trail of blood ran down the fence nine heads were placed upon. Each of them from the enemy team. Expressions varied from shocked, to pained, to slackened, jaws dropped, tongues slipping past lips.  
  
Soldier was saying something but Engie was not all too sure what it was – his eyes were glued to the row of dead, beady eyes staring back at him.  
  
  
“Soldier.” he muttered. “What – what's _this_ all?”

“That's my head collection.” Soldier stated, proudly. “Been on this for weeks now. Had my last addition today – see?” Soldier grabbed the nape of a RED Spy, blood squirting down to the floor in a small cascade.  
Engineer said nothing besides giving a stunned nod. He didn't know what he should say, in all honesty.

“So here's that short pants' face when I came crashing down on his communist ass! I tell you, he was in a big fat hurry to die, that fidgety little maggot.”  
  
Engineer had always known Soldier to be eccentric, maybe truly a little touched in the head as well. But this. This was...  
  
“Kiddo didn't even see me! Didn't even bother looking up once! And this scum they send out into _my_ battle, with _my_ team and – Engie, are you looking?”  
Engie evidently must have looked a little dazed. Blinking hard, he looked back at the commando. Something eery settled into his guts.  
  
“I'm...Ah-ah mean...” It always felt absolutely out of place to feel fear for the man. It happened occasionally, and it never stopped making him uneasy. Even now, he felt like this entire conjuncture couldn't, _shouldn't_ happen.  
  
“This is...somethin' else.” Engineer chuckled nervously. “A-Ah mean that ain't bad per se, we all have...weird hobbies, ah suppose.”  
  
“A hobby? This?” Soldier sneered. “This is not a hobby, private. This here -” Soldier set the scout's head back on the fence with a gut-clenching _squish!  
  
_ “This here is a monument. A motivation. This you should show to every young soldier out there – to make them see their enemy is vulnerable. Their enemy _can_ be killed. Every single one of them.”Soldier looked down at the heads for a while, his hand clenching around the wood of the fence.  
  
“I was once young and afraid too, private. We all were. You are there, suddenly, alone, cold, eaten alive by fear, not of the uncertain anymore but the inevitable. When the silence is worse than the noises, when the calm before the storm will drive you insane slowly. It's like the entire world thrives to murder you, from every corner, at any moment. But then, you will learn eventually that everything around you can be killed just as easily as yourself. I've died a thousand times. And I will die a thousand more if I have to. But these,--”  he tapped his finger into the Spy's eye and it sunk a little further into its cavity. “These here are just as mortal as you and me are. This is vital. Helps to keep your mind focused on what your job is.”  
  
On the way back to the car, Engineer was very silent, while Soldier kept babbling on about how he had gained the RED Demoman's head, which seemed to be a particularly messy story. He might have found it interesting if he was a bit focused.  
Instead however, he was wondering just what it was that Soldier must have witnessed in war that drove all these emotions of fear and helplessness and madness and whatever else into his mind. He didn't ask. He knew Soldier would react negatively if he did.

 

Engineer helped Soldier to store the heads back into the small hidden barn behind the fence. It was still a little grotesque to hold a bleeding head staring back at you and just throw it back into a shed. But hey – Soldier had helped him, he should at least have the decency to help back. Soldier closed the doors and locked them tightly. Engineer sighed and looked up to the sky. Sun was setting slowly.

“Welp, ah think we're done here. Whaddaya say?” Engineer nudged Soldier's shoulder with his elbow. “Head home?”  
“Yessir.” Soldier nodded back.  
  
They loaded the trunk with whatever parts they had forgotten, or simply had no place to store anymore. Fixing the load with a blanket and some ropes, they were ready to go The sun was already breaching past the earths surface and the dusty desert floor was dyed in a blanked of orange pinkish colors. Engineer stretched his arms above his head.  
  
“Ahh, yis, ah'm always feelin' much much better after accomplishin' a day. ” he sighed. “Thanks a lot fer helpin' me t'day, Solly. Ah wouldn't have done it without ya.”  
“No need to thank me Engie.” Soldier saluted. Engineer lazily saluted back. “Yeah, errr y'think ah could ask yer fer one more favor t'day?”  
  
Engineer slipped his hand in his pocket. “Drivin's still a lil' hard with jus' one hand, so –“ Soldier noticed something glistening in the setting light and he reflexively cupped his hand around the object to catch it. Car keys.  
  
“Ye know the way home, yeah?”  
  
Soldier stared at the keys in his hand for longer than needed. Then he looked up back at Engie in a blank expression.  
  
He started fidgeting with the key as if they were a fidgety octopus.  
  
“What's the matter?” Engie asked.  
“I'm – I haven't – “ Soldier muttered, then shook his head. “No worries Engie! I'll bring us home safely.”  
  
It was clear that Soldier had never driven a car. Ever in his life. Leaving Engie instructing him everything he had to do to start the car.  
“Look, key goes in 'ere.” he pointed at the slit at the side of the steering wheel. “Yer put it in and turn it. Keep her foot on the clutch.”  
“This here?” Soldier asked and the car suddenly made a violent thrust forward, nearly throwing Engie out of his seat.  
“That's the gas pedal!” Engie groaned. “The one on the very left!”  
  
Soldier rearranged his feet until he set it right, pushing it all down to the floor.  
“Good. Now..., slow and steady – lift your foot from the clutch.”  
Soldier did and the car began moving. Slowly. Soldier grinned happily, and instantly aimed for the road. “Excellent instructions Engie! Look, we are off.”  
  
“Well, we are off one mile per hour, sure.” Engie chuckled nervously. “You can accelerate now, yknow?”  
  
Soldier kicked into he gas pedal.  
“Whoa whoa, stop, not that hard!” Engie wrapped his hand around the car door handle. “Slowly! Slowly, and then you shift gears.”  
“Gear?” Soldier looked at him.  
“Eyes on the road, boy!”  
  
Soldier swung his head back to the window. “Gear?” he asks again without turning his head.  
“Here.” the texan petted the gearshift like a dogs head. “Yer put yer foot on the clutch and get into the next gear.”  
Soldier tensed up. Engineer nodded towards him. “Yer doin' good. Foot on the clutch – good. Alright, ah'll shift for yer this time.”  
  
He pushed it into the second gear, and the car instantly got faster. Soldier grinned back at the smaller man next to him. “I did it!”  
  
“Ya did it.” Engineer agreed and chuckled, warm and soft and he patted his shoulder, until Soldier went into the next gear.  
  
  
They were lucky the streets were empty at this time, so Soldier could experiment with the car on his own – which led them quite into the wrong direction. Soldier didn't seem to realize, and once Engineer did, he suddenly went stiff in his seat.  
  
“We shoulda oughta arrived half an hour ago...” he muttered. He looked through the side mirror to see the sun had fully set at this point and darkness set in. Engineer flicked the lights on the dashboard.  
  
“No worries, private, I know the way home! We are right, see? Says Clovis right there!” Soldier pointed at the approaching street sign. It was not Clovis that stood on there, and definitely not the usual road close to route 77. It said 'Carlsbad, 180 Miles.'  
  
“Solly, don't panic, but ah think we got lost.” Engie mumbled in defeat. He had hoped to arrive at the base for a nice dinner, he hadn't eaten since this morning and he missed a good hot shower too. Not to mention, to bring his scraps into his workshop and starting with the gunslinger. Soldier argued for a few more minutes that he would manage to bring them home safely, but Engineer shook his head.  
  
“Ain't got enough gas ta get home in one go.” Of course, Engie had forgotten to check on that as well. Why wouldn't he? He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “A'right, Sal – time ta find us a motel and continue tomorrow.”  
  
“A motel?” Soldier scowled. “Mollycoddled women in pelt coats take motels! We are men – we will sleep in this car and continue once the sun comes out and find us a gas station.”  
  
“Don't take this the wrong way, Sal, but fer once I really rather be a mollycoddled furcoat lady and take mah scraps to a safer place than out here in the nowhere , besides, ah'm sure they oughta have one can of gas fer us ta spare – and really, ah'm not feelin' like sleepin' in a car today.”  
  
  
Soldier threw him a contemptuous glare, but did as Engie said, and they both turned into the parking slots of the next motel they found. It was sordid to say the least. The hot pink sign above the building blinked and flickered, the small swimming pool behind man-high metal fences filled with more leaves and foliage than actual water, and as far as they could see, they were one of the only one's bothering to stay the night.  
  
The tinkerer sighed. “Well, it's better than nothin', ain't it?” he said as he opened the door and climbed out, swinging his dufflebag over his shoulder. “Well, this ain't the prettiest place a reckon but – It's jus' one night and tomorrow we'll be goin' back on the road, yeah?”  
  
“Affirmative!” Soldier hollered, and climbed out himself, holstering his shotgun.  
  
“Whoa, whoa, hold yer horses rocketboy.” Engineer rounded the car to stand in front of him, arms extended to keep Soldier from walking. “Yer can't take yer equipment in there.”  
Soldier's lips drew over his teeth in a snarl. “And who says I can't, rodeoclown?”  
  
“We can't barge in there with weapons thinkin' they gonna give us a warm welcome – They gonna think we're here ta rob the place.”  
“But we aren't.” Soldier argued. “If this here establishment is under attack, I WILL defend us with this here.”  
  
“There ain't nobody here aside from us.” Engineer rubbed his temple. “C'mon Sal, ah jus' wanna get us a room, and sleep. We ain't gonna get if if'n ya armed to the teeth.”  
“Pah!” Soldier hissed. “Fine. If you're too scared of some gunpower at your nighttable.”  
  
  
The commando threw his shotgun back into the passenger seat, and closed it.  
“Soldier.” Engineer said in a warning manner.  
“What?!” Soldier snarled back.  
The texan raised his brows, and pointed at the bandolier. “This there gotta go too.”  
“BUT – “  
“C'mon, Sal. All of it.”  
  
  
The soldier growled even louder, but obediently stripped himself bare from his two grenades and placed them, very carefully, on the dashboard. And off they went inside the building.  
  
The reception was tiny and smelt of decades of cigarette smoke clutching to the carpeted walls. The floor was stained and worn out, the lights in the corridors behind them flickered. At the reception table stood a very sour looking, overweight teenager, chewing gum, headphone in her ears, browsing through magazines.  
  
“Ahem.” Engineer cleared his throat. The young woman didn't even spare them a single glance. Engineer tapped his finger on the table, before giving the bell a soft pat. The ringing seemed to catch the lady's attention. She pulled the plugs from her ear.  
  
“What'cha want?” she asked, rather crassly.  
“A room would be nice.”  
  
The lady looked at him as if he just made an absolutely terrible joke. Then her eyes shifted between the two.  
  
“One room?” She asked a little skeptical.  
“Well, uhm,” he turned to Soldier. “Would ya prefer a room for yerself?”  
  
“Negatory.” Soldier growled. “I can't run risk having one of my team members strangled, shot, stabbed or raped while I'm two corridors away! One room, no windows, no fireplace!”  
“E-Err, with separate beds if ye have one.” Engineer quickly threw in.  
  
The lady's face scrunched in confusion, but did as she was asked, flipping through a book. “Well we got the common rooms and the VIP honeymoon suites.” She pointed at the shifty corridor behind them. If that was the luxury they offered, he wondered what the normal rooms looked like.  
  
  
“Ah think we'll go with common.” he said.  
  
She hummed, turned around then and took a key from the hook.  
  
“Two person a night's a hundred bucks and twenty cents.”  
  
Engineer nervously shoved his hands into his pockets and pulled out a few tattered dollar bills. “Err, shucks, Solly, ya got some cents with ye?”  
Soldier roamed his own pockets, then threw some coins on the counter.  
  
The lady looked down at the money. “Yer short on twenty bucks, pal.” she said critically.  
“Now listen here, you little pimple-peppered buttercup,” Soldier's patience had run out.  
  
“Sal, easy.” Engie muttered, sighed deeply, then dove his hand back into the other side of his pants. He pulls out a small phial with something golden inside.  
  
The lady narrowed her eyes. “The hell's that?”  
“Australium.” Engineer explained. “Rarest material in the world. Where we two are from, they make weaponry with that here stuff – or, well, we use it fer some physical adjustments.”  
  
The lady arched an eyebrow. “Physical adjustments?” she echoed warily.  
“Ah, well, yknow - removin' grey hair, flattening wrinkles, improvin' the skin structure, weight loss and – “  
  
The lady snatched it from his fingers, eyeing it skeptically. “And that stuff's actually workin'?”  
  
“May I?” Engineer took the phial back into his hand, opened it, and let a drop of golden liquid drop down onto a cut on his arm he had received from todays battle. The cut instantly closed, removing a few freckles that faintly peppered his skin as well. She looked down at it with eyes large as saucers.  
  
“So. Ya think that's gonna make up fer those twenty bucks?”  
“A'right pal, yer got it.” the girl tossed them their keys, and grabbed the phial once more. Looking back at them with a puzzled expression, Engineer mimicked to down it like a shot. Which she did. Whiping her fat lips, she pointed to the door. “Yer room's outside.”  
  
“Much obliged, Ma'am!” Engineer grabbed their keys and dragged Soldier out of the reception room.  
  
  
They walked up a staircase and to the upper levels of doors. “Well, this is gonna be fun once she realizes it'll pass in 24 hours.” the tinkerer snickered.  
  
The rooms they passed seemed empty, except one, from which came a couple of really questionable sounds. Engineer felt his neck heating up at the joyful cries of a female and the rapid thumping of something heavy against the wall. He avoided glancing at Soldier that moment.  
  
“Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five – Twenty six, here we go.” Engineer drew out his keys.  
  
“Private.” Soldier said, before Engineer could unlock their door. The texan looked back at him. “Hm?”  
“You had Australium with you,” he said. “Where did you get it from?”  
  
“Huh? Oh.” Engineer blanched a little. Then he started rubbing his neck. “Oh, well, y'see...”  
  
He had once again acted, and spoken, before thinking.  
  
“It's from...the Administrator.”  
“Why would the administrator give you Australium?”  
  
Soldier was beginning to dig a little too deep into the topic, and Engineer once again felt watched. He felt the ghost of bony long finger slip around his throat to his jugular –  
  
“Ah, see, Saxton Hale's thinkin' bout puttin' this stuff on our weapons in future. So, ah was given a sample to see what effects it has on metal.”  
Soldier sneered. “A golden weapon. Hah! Next these pinko maggots come up with hats that glow in the dark.”  
  
Engineer turned the key and pushed the door open. The smell of horrendously cheap room re-freshener over molt and smoke instantly shot into his nose, and he let out a huff of a cough. He flicked the light switch. No light.  
  
“Darn.” Engineer muttered, then carefully entered the dark room. He found a night table with a small lamp on top and switched it on.  
  
  
The room was tiny. The wallpaper was stained, gray and torn at a few corners. More than once has it been used to extinguish cigarettes, or was soaked in different kinds of fluids. Engineer hoped it merely were spilled drinks, and nothing else. The floor was covered in an old, disgusting carpet, with just as many stains and dust settled upon. Engineer made sure to remember not to touch it with his bare feet.  
  
There was a tiny closet at the other side of the room, and an even tinier bathroom. Engineer stopped midway. There weren't two beds as he requested. It was one, Queen size, covered in sheets that looked fresh at least. Engineer threw Soldier an uncomfortable glance.  
  
“What? Afraid of sitting too close to your comrade?”  
“Er, well, no. Jus' a little pissed we paid more fer less,” he crossed his arms. “And, uh, well ah figured you'd prefer – “  
  
“Are you assuming I cannot stand sleeping in a bed with another man?” Soldier shook his head, slammed the door shut and started locking every available lock. He also took the chair from the tiny table and pushed it beneath the doorhandle. “If you were with me at the front you'd be glad for another body lying next to you to keep your sissy genitals from freezing off.”  
  
Engineer glanced up at the rattling air conditioner above the bed. Holding his hand against the bars, he felt a bare huff of air against his knuckles.  
  
“If we're lucky we might actually not die from a heat stroke actually...” Engineer shrugged. “Oh well, let's make the best of it, shall we?”  
“Affirmative.” Soldier rolled his shoulders. “Today was a successful day.”

“It sure was.” Engineer smiled at him. “Thanks again fer the help t'day.”  
“No need to thank me, civilian.” Soldier said. “We fight for duty and honor, and we collect scrap material for duty and honor – “  
  
That's when suddenly Engineer's stomach clenched and a low, angry gurgle rumbled. Engineer flinched, a faint pink dusting is face.  
“Ah shucks – forgot ah haven't had anythin' solid since this mornin'...” he rubbed his tummy. He pushed himself off the bed again. “Well, ah'll quickly skip to the next gas station and grab us somethin' fer dinner.”  
“Negatory.” Soldier quickly stepped between him and the door.

“C'mon Sal, I'm really hungry.” Engineer began to feel annoyed.  
  
“I will go and get us food. You stay here. And take a shower. You smell like fresh roadkill.”  
  
“Gee. Thanks...” Engineer lifted his arm and sniffed. He was right though, a shower definitely seemed like a good option. “Well, alright then. Jus' ask the nice lady at the reception fer a few gallons of gas before ya go.” Engineer slipped his hand into his pocket and gave him the keys. “And don't drive too far, yeah?”  
  
“No fear, Engie, I'll be back before you can even blink.” he said, grabbed the last few dollar bills they had, and off he went.

 

It may not be the warmest shower Engie has had, but it was still a shower. He sighed long and deep as he washed sweat and dirt and blood off his body, let the warm water run down his neck and shoulders. For the last two to three hours, Engineer had forced himself not to let his mind wander off to what the Administrator said to him. But since he had to admit to Soldier where he got the australium from...  
  
Now, it suddenly came all back, crushing him internally.  
_  
“I want you to understand that any mistake you do, any attempt to deceive or abandon me will cost both your heads. Yours, and_ his _”  
  
_ With both hands he held himself upright on the shower wall. If only he knew what al those cryptic information she had given him would mean to him, to his future, to Mann.Co's future. Was it true that they would soon be fighting robots. Actual robot duplicates of themselves? And would Gray destroy everything and everyone who stood in his way?  
  
What would happen to them? What would happen to his team when it happened? Would they fight? They would have to he reckoned. And what would he do? He would be somewhere, somewhere he didn't even know where, stuck with this bony monster of a woman who wouldn't care eve an ounce who she would sacrifice for her own well being.   
  
Engineer would be at her side, and he would watch them and do nothing. Could do nothing to prevent whatever would happen to BLU, or RED. As much as he disliked those bunch of maniacs, he did not want to see them killed, tortured, or whatever terrible things Gray intended to do with them. Or his own team at that matter. And Solly - If he would be captured, harmed – killed, even...  
  
Engineer proceeded to freak out, claw at his temples and wrap his arm around himself as every terrible idea he could imagine flooded his mind. He felt helpless, when even now he could not even speak about it to anybody. Or else he would not be there to see what will happen to the rest of them. The Administrator will have them like little guinea pigs in a giant cage full of snakes, telling them to protect the facilities, and have them die while trying to.  
  
They would die, and he would be not be there to prevent it. They would die, and he wouldn't have warned them. They will die, and all he can do is watch.  
  
There was a gurgling sound above him, and suddenly, the water was out. For a few more minute, Engineer shivered in the cool air, hands wrapped around himself, back pressed against the cold tiles, eyes shut tightly. It felt like hours when he was able to breathe properly again. He dried himself, and dressed himself in his single white wife beater he wore beneath the blue shirt and his white boxers.  
  
He sat on the bed, and rubbed over the stump on his right arm, while staring off into the empty space. Soldier was gone for a while now and Engineer at some point wondered if he would find his way back. “Could be he's crashed mah old Betsy as well...” he mumbled to himself. At some point he figured that sitting around, waiting and staring into the nothingness would not bring him anywhere further, either -

So instead, he roamed his bag until he found what he was looking for. Rolling out the blueprint , his equipment and a small bag of scraps he had prepared to take to his room, he carried it back to the bed, set his reading glasses on his nose and began to tinker.

Soldier arrived around forty minutes later. He banged against the door with his boot nearly hard enough to break it out of its frame. “It is I, private, open the door!”  
“Easy, Easy!” Engineer called, dropped whatever he held in hand and quickly unlocked the door.

“Reporting for duty, Sir. I have coffee and san – “  
Soldier stopped mid sentence as he looked back at the Engineer. In his hand, he held two cups of still steaming coffee and two sealed sandwiches. Never had Engineer be this happy to see a terribly soggy plain gas station sandwich.  
  
“Ah, good, thanks a bunch.” Engineer gratefully took one from Soldier's hand. “Yer didn't drive mah car into any rocks or trees, didye?” Engineer peeked over Soldier's shoulder.  
“No, Sir.” Soldier shook his head.  
  
“Good. Well, come on in then. No need ta stand in the doorway.” Engineer retreated back into the room without noticing Soldier's eyes roaming along Engineer's wide back nearly naked beneath that thin wifebeater shirt, and the man's white boxers hugging the curve of his backside and broad thighs, watching the muscles beneath ripple, and …  
  
“Sal?” Engineer asked. “Yer alright?”  
Soldier shook himself free from his staring and entered. “You cannot just open the door to anybody requesting entry, maggot!” Soldier snarled and kicked the door close behind him. “That's a violation against the safety measures.”  
  
“But ah already knew it was you, Sal.” Engineer arched his brow. “Ah know few people with yer voice.”  
“Nonsense! It could have been an impostor!”  
“Yer thinkin' about a Spy, ain'tya?” Engineer sat back on the bed. “Ah doubt it, Solly. Ah mean, look around, we're in the middle of nowhere. And as far as I'm concerned it's nighttime-curfew fer all of us at that time anyway.”  
  
Soldier paused, then nodded. “Agreed.” he muttered, then downed his coffee in one quick gulp. “BUT STILL!” he set the cup down on the table hard. “We have orders and regulations, and I do not intend to break them.”  
  
Soldier began undressing himself, unzipping his large coat and unbuckling his bandolier. He folded the items neatly on the table, then joined the Engineer on the other side of the bed, back turned towards him, as he untied his boots.  
  
For a while neither spoke as Engineer ate and Soldier polished his boots. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence at all, more like a mutual agreement that neither had to add anything. Engineer would turn, and look back at the Soldier when he wanted to say something, but found himself loosing his train of thoughts when he noticed something on the man's roughened skin, right beneath a strap of the other man's shirt.  
  
That same strange mark that he had seen there on the other man's skin before. In the light it looked even stranger, deformed, like chunks of meat had fallen off, giving this extraordinary scar much more depth. As if something was purposely pressed deep into the man's shoulder...Maybe an accident with a burning iron? He figured this scar wasn't usually something you'd see on a man, but rather on branded cattle, like they did back in his youth in texas.  
  
“Ah jeez. That looks painful.” Engineer hissed.  
Soldier stopped. “What?” he asked.  
“This there?” Engineer tapped the spot on his shoulder.  
  
Soldier bend his head over his shoulder. He looked away then. Staring off into a space six inches away from him. Oh, dear. That didn't look good. Maybe he had hit a sore spot on Soldier? The man never looked so serious all of the sudden when they talked about his scars.  
  
“Nothing hurts, professor. Not me! Pain is weakness leaving the body, and have NO TIME for weakness.” he growled then, picking up his other shoe and rigorously scrubbing over it.  
  
Engineer finished his coffee and meal, then went back to tinkering. So far he had created a rough frame for the hand structure. It was tedious work with tiny particles he had to set together with his weak hand, and Engineer forcefully blinked in between to regain focus.  
  
“What are you doing there, Engie?” Soldier leaned over the bed and looked over the man's shoulder. The texan cringed at the sudden break of silence, and the warm breath that had ghosted over his bare shoulder.  
  
“A-Ah. This is, err. This is the gunslinger.” he explained.  
“This is the gunslinger?” Soldier frowned.  
“Well, the outline at least. See?” Engineer passed him the blueprint to the sergeant. “Ah start here, and then proceed to put more and more pieces around the frame.”  
  
Soldier stared at the blueprint from all sides. Tilting his head in tantrum as if that would make it easier for him to understand each step. Engineer turned the paper around until it was right again. “Look here, step one, then step two, three, four -”  
  
“This is horseshit.” Soldier growled. “It doesn't even have any descriptions! How's one supposed to puzzle this together without proper instructions?!”  
  
“It does have instructions, see?” Engie pointed down to a large box with teeny tiny print. Soldier's nose nearly touched the paper, that's how hard he squinted. Engineer lowered the mans hands. “Ya don't need to damage yer eyes. Want me ta red it fer ya perhaps?”  
  
“I can read on my own.” Soldier hissed.  
  
Suddenly Engineer felt very awkward. The conversation they had back in Soldier's room came back to his mind.  
  
  
_'You think I'm stupid.'  
  
_  
“Oh ah don't doubt that.” Engineer forced a smile on his face. “But yknow what this here is?” he slipped his glasses off his nose. "It's readin' glasses. Over the years ah've pressed mah nose into blueprints ta read small fonts that ah completely ruined mah vision.”  
  
“You can't see?” Soldier frowned.  
“Ah can see, just...” he picked up Soldier's hand, held it very near his face. “If ah look at yer hand, it's blurry to me. It's getting gradually better when I hold it  farther away from me.” he said, slowly leading Soldier's hand away from his face until it was back in focus. “Ah'd jus' appreciate if that ain't happenin' to you either.”  
  
Soldier looked down at Engineer's hand still on his, until he pulled away.  
  
“Understood!” Soldier nodded.  
Engineer picked up the blueprint again. “A'right either way, step one, assemblin' long and small pieces for the frame, ah did that already, so lets skip to step two. Building the casing. The section that'll get attached to my hand. Ah, I'm seein' here though...” Engineer squinted.  
  
“You are NOT to squint maggot!”  
“Whoops , heh, yer right.” Engineer chuckled awkwardly. “Ah'm not sure if ah have any locking pliers though...  
“These here?”  
Engineer turned his head to peek over his shoulder.  
  
“That's...yeah, that's the stuff.” Engineer muttered surprised, seeing Soldier holding the tool. Soldier passed it over to the Engineer. “How didy– actually, nevermind.” Engineer wiggled his fingers to and fro. “Ah'd need your hand fer a moment.”  
  
Soldier came scooting over the bed until he sat on his knees at Engie's side. Engineer pointed at the frame, and told him to hold it 'gently', while he would try to pry in some wires.  
  
  
Before they knew, both of them had both hands in the project, well, three hands in total, with Engineer's stump being a dummy for the new robotic hand. He suffered a few burns, and a few electric shocks that Soldier gratefully took care of. Even Soldier himself got his fair share of burns, cuts and bruises on his already calloused hands.  
  
“Okay, jus' remember red cable with the green one. That one simulates the nerve strings, the blue one the muscles.” Engineer explained and Soldier nodded, keeping both cables away from each other. “I'll tell you go, then you put em together, yes?”  
“Sir, yes sir!!”  
“Good. Okay, hold on.” Engineer attached the base of the gunslinger on top of his stump. “Ready?”  
  
He looked to the military man and he nodded. _“Go!”_  
  
Soldier pressed both cables together. Engineer prepared for another burn or nothing at all, as it had been for several hours now after rearranging and recalculating – but there. There it was. A twitch in the base of the index finger. Engineer's eyes widened.  
  
“Again.” he breathed, and Soldier did. Another faint twitch. “It's movin'!” Engineer jumped off the bed to his feet. “Again, harder!” Engineer said. Both cables were pressed together and now the fingers curled and uncurled, a bit faster, a bit longer. Engineer breathed a short, awe-filled laughter, before he gave Soldier the sign to stop. “Look at that, we're getting' there.”  
  
He slipped the device off his hand and placed it carefully on top of the night stand. “We sure are getting' there. Well, we still need the casing and further puffer the finger exoskeleton, but – we did some progress tonight, didn't we?” Engineer sighed, as he slumped back onto the bed. “Right now we should take it easy though, don't think ah can handle another burn fer t'night, and ah don't wanna stress you fu– ”  
  
  
Suddenly, there was movement. Something fell to the floor with a clank and the world span, before he felt himself lying flat on his back on the mattress – above him a shadow. A wall of muscles, of white shirt with a dog tag dangling down and pressing cold into his chest and –  
  
He looked up into Soldier's obscured face, looming over him. Two powerful arms propping him up on each side of Engie's head, pressing deep into the sheets. A sudden shudder rippled through Engie's body. His mouth dry. His muscles immobilized.  
With wide eyes he stared back to the man above, taking in deep, steeling breaths that expanded his already broad torso. Thick, powerful thighs pressing down against the top of his own.  
  
“...Sal?” Engineer asked cautiously.  
  
He wished he didn't sound like a scared animal right now, looking up at him. It didn't really occur to him that his hands had subconsciously grabbed onto the man's biceps until he moved one of them from his arm to the top of his chest. Just in case he had to push the man off right there. Soldier's muscles twitched at the touch.  
  
“Solly?” he repeated a bit louder. Soldier didn't answer. He craned his head down, lips pushing against his own.  
  
  
Frozen, Engineer did not even have the strength to use his hand against his chest to push him away. He laid there, surprised, as Soldier vehemently kissed him. One of those thighs slipped from around him to between his own legs, pushing, until Engineer gave in and he slumped down against him with his full weight. Suddenly Engineer was covered in 200 pounds of Soldier.  
  
Chapped lips pressed, suckled, nibbled on his own. They desperately asked for entrance, kissing at his in shock sealed mouth like it would open the gate. Suddenly, realization set in. With realization came a wave of panic, more shock. And then another wave of confusion, instincts shutting him down to keep that intrusive behavior away from him, and then – acceptance.  
  
Things set into place like a puzzle. Like an itch he realized he had now that he had not yet noticed he couldn't scratch. His heart was drumming up to his ears and in his throat, fingers curling tighter around Soldier's biceps. Again a feeling of stones rolling down his stomach, breaking open with butterflies streaming out en masse. This was...okay, his head told him. This felt good, his body agreed. He relaxed.  
  
Closed his eyes. Opened his lips. And suddenly there he was, hot and damp and strong, tongues playing tag. He was so much all of the sudden, so much of him that Engineer's hands searched purchase on his body, hand holding his shirt, the other wrapped around his shoulder. Oxygen became suddenly hard to catch, and he gasped whenever Soldier left room for it. And then Soldier growled deep in his chest, pressing himself further against him, rumbling noises like an hungry animal.  
  
The texan felt his body tremble in the rhythm of that vibrating predatory voice. He could feel his lip bruise from how much Soldier nibbled at it, softly at first, then harder, letting his teeth sink down against his tender flesh until Engineer gasped. He dove down for another kiss, stealing the moan that traveled through his throat in its wake. His arms slung around his shoulders, propping him up just slightly, holding him tightly. His hips pushed deep against his own, knees pressed against his thigh until he had no choice but to lift them and let them dangle around the taller man's hips.  
  
That's when the short fuse of giving in burned out – and panic and confusion set in once more. What in tarnation was going on? This...This felt too similar to the showers the last time Soldier did this without any explanation.  
  
  
“S-Sal. Soldier.” Engineer whispered. “Soldier!” he repeated a bit louder when he noticed the man above him wasn't listening. He growled angrily, but stopped assaulting his lips. For a short moment none of them spoke, just stared, panted, let their mingled breaths brush over each others faces.  
  
“What are – why are you – “Engineer panted. “What in sam's hill ya doin', boy?”  
“What does it look like?” he hissed, impatiently.  
“B-But – Why?”  
  
Soldier sucked in deep breaths. Now that Engineer phrased it, he himself started to look a bit uncertain. He looked away, back down at him, away again, back at him. The question was left unanswered. Engineer finally found the strength to press his flat hand back on the Soldier's sturdy chest, pushing him off. He sat up, with Soldier ending up still straddling his lap.  
  
A thick coat of awkwardness settled over them, with Engie's face still burning, and Soldier silently trying to explain himself. It was a little hard to watch the larger man fidgeting with his words. With a heavy sigh, the texan shook his head.  
  
“No need ta explain, Sal. Not pressuring yer.”  
  
“You are – you are smart.” Soldier blurted.  
  
“I– err.” Engineer blinked. “Come again?”  
  
“You are smart.” Soldier repeated. “You...you are very smart. Smarter than the entire team combined! You build a limb out of recycled tin cans and broken nails.”  
  
Soldier gradually found his fervor again the more he talked. “You DESERVE to be kissed, private.” he hollered. “You deserve to be kissed and praised and to be given each and every medal there is – well, maybe not all of them! But a good bunch of them for sure!”  
  
Engineer stared back at him for a while before he burst out laughing. He slumped back into the bed, hand on his face.  
  
  
“What is – that's not – THAT IS NO REASON TO LAUGH, MAGGOT!!” Soldier snarled back.  
  
“Every man of my former garrison would have _murdered_ for such an honor! I won't allow you to...” -- “Sorry, Sorry.” Engie brushed a tear from his cheek. “Yer right, yer right. Ah, jus' --” he shook his head with a grin. Lifting his calloused hand, he gave the man a pat against the neck. “Yer a good fella, Sal. Damn good. Though ah was expecting ta get said kisses from someone, well – not that manly.”  
  
“What's wrong with being manly?!” Soldier sounded both irked with a tinge of confusion. “If it's women you mean, I do not see any of these loitering around here. I must suffice for now.”  
  
Engie finally managed to clear his eyes from wetness and his cheeks finally stopped glowing. He looked back at Soldier. “Yer....yer right, ah s'ppose.” he muttered.  
  
The happy mood on his face slowly vanished as he realized the happy flipflopping inside his stomach was still not simmering down. He swallowed, and his throat felt dry and clogged. This heavy awkwardness returned, yet this time it was...different. Strange. Like there were things unspoken that waited to be said, but Engineer didn't know what.  
  
  
“W-We, uhm. We should sleep, don'cha think?” he asked. Soldier stared back at him, unmoving. Engineer furtively nudged his knee against Soldier's inner thigh. “Can't sleep with ye on top of me, though.”

The Soldier huffed then, and with a grunt, he unhooked his legs and rolled over to the other side of the bed. His broad back facing him.  
  
“I will wake you at 600 approximately. No excuses, hardhat. We have work to do tomorrow.” he muttered.  
“Yeah. Yeah, we do.” Engineer agreed.  
  
For a while, he laid there and stared, trying to keep himself out of Soldier's personal space, which was not that easy. Given he was quite the size, and given this was definitely a bed made for two people that enjoyed sharing each others company, Engineer found himself leaning closer to the ledge of the bed than usually. Just now that he finally rested his eyes and mind, he noticed just how tired he was. Brushing his fingers thoughtfully along his lips, he stared up the ceiling.  
  
He left his mind roam and his eyes wander off to the man next to him. Soldier was lying on his back now too, looking up to the tattered wallpaper above them. Hand folded over his chest, helmet still resting on his head.  
Still Engineer felt there was something he wanted to say. But couldn't say what it was. At first he was sure he should tell Soldier to stop doing this. Sudden kissing and such. That that was not the texan way, and that this would not benefit their relationship. If they wanted to stay friends, this had to stop – because it came awfully close to what people in love did.

  
Which suddenly made Engineer jolt. The thought had occurred him before, that there was something Soldier must feel for him. Never had he seen such devotion for anybody coming from Soldier. He wouldn't just kiss anybody in the team, would he? Or care for them like he cared for him?  
  
  
“What's this fidgeting about?” He heard Soldier growl into the pillow, making his heart thud hard against his ribcage.  
“Nothin'. Nothin'.” Engineer grinned sheepishly, and relaxed back into the bed, eyes closing, trying to fall asleep. About twenty seconds later, his eyes sprung open again. “Solly?”  
“Hrm?” Soldier mumbled. Engineer sat up again, blanket pooling around his hips.

“May ah ask – have you ever...I mean...I uhm... gosh, how am ah gonna say this without makin' that sound weird, but– ”  
Soldier lifted his upper body from the pillow he had been holding in a choke hold.  
  
“Have you, and RED Demo, ever...”  
Soldier sat up instantly. “Did we what?”  
  
“Done...Done this.” Engineer held his hands out as if to capture a whole situation into his arms. “Have ya fixed him up like ya fixed me up? Kept him outta trouble, and...kissed him?”  
  
Soldier stared back at him. And Engineer added: “Yer never really talked about that time with him. Jus', yknow, how awful he is, what a disloyal sonuvabitch he is and that he has no honor and such, but – is this jus' somethin' ya do with yer friends? Ah wanna know so I'm not, yknow – getting wrong impressions.”  
  
  
Soldier continued eyeing him, then he rolled back onto his back with a gruff noise.  
“No.” he answered then. “Aside one night when we were having a post-battle gathering, and that one eyed dog tripped over a root of a tree and fell on top of me.”  
“Well slap mah knee, that's romantic.” Engineer chuckled.  
  
“Nothing's romantic about backstabbing scum kissing you with their slimy alcohol smelling lips on accident.” Soldier snarled. “I will not further talk about the cyclops now. I do not wish to waste any of my sleep thinking about him.”  
  
“Right, Right.”Engineer nodded, and slipped back beneath the covers, flicking off the night stand lamp. The room went pitch black, and there was nothing but the soft sound of their respiration and the blanket shuffling whenever someone moved slightly. Engineer closed his eyes, face buried into the pillow.  
  
So if this was not a custom for Soldier to do with friends, then...maybe...?

 

* * *

 

Following the next few months, Engineer found himself a little less lonely inside his workshop.  
  
He left the door unlocked now, for whenever Soldier wanted to visit. And he visited frequently. Sometimes to report on what was happening on the battlefields, sometimes to bring him dinner. Soldier was there for a great amount of time the tinkerer spent working on his gunslinger as well, helping out, lending a hand so to say.  
  
He helped him clean his work shop, helped him assemble scrap parts, carry boxes and all that. And for once, he found Soldier looking...happy almost?  
  
The morning they left the Motel room, Engineer suggested Soldier should consider becoming his apprentice, helping him out in the workshop. At first Soldier looked a bit wary, arguing that he did not need any knowledge of engineering if all he needed to know was how to kill people efficiently.  
  
“That's bull, everyone should have some basic knowledge about engineering,” Engineer offered with a smile. “Ya might learn somethin' useful in future. And, well, ah still need a second set of hands ta help me out.”  
  
And thus Soldier found himself visiting Engineer frequently now. The harsh facade crumbled chip by chip, until Soldier found himself very invested in everything he was asked to do, cleaning equipment and passing him parts, even the smallest things he had to do seemed a much, much better alternative to sitting in his room, locked, cleaning his weaponry every day, doing nothing else. He looked, for the first time, a tad more alive than he usually did.  
  
And in sams's hill, in times as dire as they were right now, Soldier felt like a ray of sunshine on a day that's cloudy, getting grayer. His meetings with the administrator became more frequently, and with each visit, Engineer got a closer look upon what was coming at them at dangerous speed. The robot army Gray Mann was preparing was extending unstoppable.

Now, to Engineer's horror, giant robots were in the making. Enormous metallic Goliaths that towered even the tallest building Engineer had ever seen. How in every existing hell were they supposed to keep these things away from their facilities? They would crush them with a simple flick of their mechanic wrists.

  
Engineer returned home feeling sick and exhausted each time, with Soldier waiting inside his workshop.  
  
“You are late, maggot.” the Soldier called. “Your dinner's getting cold.”  
“Sorry, Sal.” Engineer rubbed his face with his hand. “S'been a hard conference.”  
  
Since no one in the team was supposed to know what was going on, he simply told everyone his almost weekly disappearance from morning to night was due to conference meetings for the international Engineering clubs. Luckily no one had yet questioned this so far. And luckily nobody noticed the dread in his green eyes each time he returned from the administrators office.  
  
Soldier noticed however, that Engineer looked awfully torn apart this evening.

He stood from the table they usually shared, approaching. “Equipment is spick and span, Sir.” he saluted, and Engineer nodded, giving him a soft pat on the shoulder. “Thanks, Sal.” he muttered, dragging himself to the table.  
“Sir. You look exhausted.”  
“That's cuz ah am.”  
  
“You are overworking yourself again,” Soldier crossed his arms. “Remember the last time you overworked yourself?”  
“Ah sure do...” Engineer looked down to his missing hand. Then down to the tray of food Soldier had fetched from the kitchen. He didn't feel one bit hungry, yet knowing he was eating with Soldier, he had no excuses.  
  
“Eat, private.” Soldier nodded towards him as he seated himself across from him. He shoveled the last few spoonfuls into his mouth, before picking up the pen that Engineer just noticed lied next to the Soldier's side of the table.  
  
He began writing. Slowly, and a bit wonky as Engineer watched the man's hand shake a bit.  
  
  
“What ya writin'?” Engineer asked.

Soldier looked up to him, then back to the piece of paper.  
“Letters.”  
“Ya writin' a letter? To whom?” Engineer suddenly felt oddly...strangled. “To your lady?”  
  
“My what now?” the commando spat back.  
“Yer gal. Wife. Beloved.” he asked.  
  
Soldier scoffed. “I have no time for a common wench! This is my checkbook.”  
“Checkbook?”  
Soldier held up the letter and checkbook. “My loan. I'm sending it to the local animal shelter.”  
  
Engineer nearly dropped his fork. “The...animal shelter?”  
  
“Affirmative.” Soldier nodded, and kept scribbling along. “I send half of my loan to the animal shelter and the orphanage in Teufort.”  
  
“Ya do...?” Engineer muttered. “But – that's leavin' ya with very lil money, no?”  
Soldier flashed a toothy grin. “NO MONEY in fact. But I can manage. These kids can't. And neither can those animals. I will NOT TOLERATE children and animals running cold and hungry on american ground! They are the future, greasemonkey! These will be the men and women, and beasts, that will carry our bodies to our respective honorable graves. Help your brothers in arms when they are in need, no excuses.”

Crap. Should he tell him they were more or less unoffically unemployed?  
  
“That's awfully noble of ya, Sal.” Engineer said thoughtfully.  
“It's what I do for my fellow americans.”  
They settled back into silence as Soldier scribbled along. He finished, placing the pencil down. Then, he suddenly looked across the table.  
  
"Engie."

“Hm?” Engineer had began developing some appetite and had begun eating slowly. His fork hovering close to his mouth, he looked back at him.  
  
“I – I need – uhm – “  
Whoa, whoa – was Soldier blushing? He looked so bashful all of the sudden.  
“Need what, son?”  
“I – you – You are smart.” Soldier said then. “Maybe you could – could uhm...” Soldier began pushing the letter towards the man across from him. “Make sure I made no slips?”  
“Ah – yes. Sure thing.” Engineer dragged the letter over to his side – and instantly cringed. The handwriting came close to that of a five year old. Scrawly chicken scratch with dreadful mistakes littered all over the page. He bit his lip. “C'mere, take that there pen with ya.”  
  
“For what?” Soldier blinked.  
“We'll fix this thing together, hm?”  
  
Soldier hesitated, then stood, taking the pen with him and moving around the table. “Sit 'ere.” Engineer patted the seat next to him. Soldier slipped on the bench close to the tinkerer.  
Both of them leaned over the letter, dissecting it part for part and writing it down new on a different piece of paper.  
  
“Aright, first things first – ya shouldn't start ya letter with sayin' 'Dear maggots'.”  
“What?! Why not?” Soldier protested.  
“That ain't the right way ta talk to start letters, Mister. Too aggressive. Imagine they be sendin' that money straight back when they read this.”  
“That would be horribly impolite and downright traitorous! We can't let that happen, Engie.”  
“Right, we shouldn't. So, let's write this correctly.”  
  
  
A few more moments of Soldier arguing that calling both animals and little kids “cadets” was a bit misleading while Soldier found it just right, being completely confident that at least ninetynine percent of them would be going to serve their country once they come of age. Engineer hoped there were no reasons to send these poor parent-less kids into further useless wars, not since tensions in vietnam stopped at last.  
  
An hour later, and Soldier's letter was fully revamped, corrected and written down in Engineer's smooth handwriting.  
  
“There we go. No need ta slap extra stamps on these ta be read.” Engineer joked.  
“I thank you for your service, private! One last thing!” Soldier snatched the pen from his fingers, and began scribbling down something at the bottom.  
  
  
_SOLDIE_ _Я_ _& ENGINER  
  
_

Engineer didn't fight the smile on his face. With a soft sigh that did not falter his smile, he took the pen from the commando's much bigger hand and squeezed in a second E In his name.  
  
He looked up. Soldier looked between him and the paper. Back at him and back at the paper - And then he looked away, blushing again, soft redness dusting the side of his neck. There was this strange sudden feeling of his belly churning, breaking apart and tons of tiny flutters setting free. This time coupled with the wish to...stay like this a little while longer.

His head blissfully devoid of evil thoughts, of all the classified things he knew would happen to them. For a while, moments like these were the closest to normal his life had been for the last five years he had worked in this business.  
  
And he dreaded when it would stop being like this. Having a friend. Someone to help him with his work, a conversation partner for once in this usually cold and quiet workshop. The waking moments he noticed he had fell asleep over his desk again, with a blanket draped softly over his shoulders. He nearly did not ever want to finish that gunslinger. And yet Soldier pushed him. And the Administrator pushed him. And while her words were leaving a bitter and cold aftertaste, Soldier's words did encourage him after all.  
  
And a month and a half later, it was nearly done. The next thing was going to be the worst of all – connecting the wires to the nerves.  
  
Engineer sat, overall straps danging down his body and his shirt gone, hand propped up as Soldier passed him all the equipment he needed.  
  
“Sir, requesting to make a suggestion.” Soldier said. He looked uneasy, even with his face hidden. Body rigid and jaw squared.  
“Ah know what ya wanna say,” Engineer muttered, flicking switches on his dispenser until it began rattling, glowing, engulfing Engineer in a soft blue glimmer. “But Medic's at the battlefield. And ah need this done _now_ .”  
  
“Sir, requesting to make another suggestion?”  
“No, Sal, this can't wait until tomorrow.” Engineer answered. “Ah don't have that time. It's tonight or ah'm royally screwed.”  
  
After a pause, the tinkerer looked back at him. “Ya got the box?”  
“Right here.” Soldier said and carried it over to the table. Engineer opened the case. Clenching his teeth, he picked up a scalpel.  
  
“Requesting to make a third suggestion...?” Soldier muttered.  
“What?” The texan finally looked up and back at him.  
Soldier seemed to hesitate, then approached, taking it from Engineer's hand. “Let me do it.”  
  
“I, uhm – Yeah. I uhm...yer right. Ya should do it.” Engineer wiggled in his seat to let soldier slip onto the desk himself. He took hold of Engie's wrist, and held it gently, but firm.  
  
“Sal.” Engineer placed his remaining hand on the other man's back. “If a start strugglin' – keep me down. Okay? Don't listen ta me when ah start screaming and shoutin' fer ya to stop. This has to be done. Okay?”  
  
“Affirmative.” Soldier nodded. And then he began. He set the scalpel at the scar stretching along the missing hand. He began cutting.  
  
He heard Engineer making a hissing sound in pain, the hand resting on his back now clawed into his shirt; and then he let out a bloodcurling wail in pain that went right under the commando's skin. Soldier felt his entire body shudder, the scalpel shaking in his hand as he halted from cutting. Engineer bit through the pain, breathing heavily into the man's shoulder, his body quaking in Soldier's hand.  
  
“Don't stop now.” he heard him press through clenched teeth, “Keep goin'.”  
“Engie --”  
“Ah said keep goin', Sal!!”  
  
The wound opened, with the dispenser engulfing his stump in azure blue dust. Blood dripped down and soaked into Soldier's pants. Waiting until Engineer had settled his pained breathing and let the healing rays of the dispenser ease the pain and numb the wound.  
  
“Don't fall unconscious.” he growled into Engineer's direction.  
  
“N-No. Ah'm not.” Engineer rocked his head to and fro on top of the man's shoulder. “Jus' keep goin'.”  
  
Soldier picked up the base of the hand. It was a round blue cylindrical form, hollowed to perfectly fit on top of the man's arm-stump. Soldier clasped the separate dashboard around the man's arm, then lowered the base on top of his arm. Once it sat, Engineer gave him a nudge.  
  
“Yer gotta twist it ta connect with the bone.” he muttered and his voice was hollow. He seemed to anticipate that this was going to hurt. He could feel the military man beside him hesitating again.  
“Right way.” Engineer instructed, his voice a bit firmer. And Soldier did.  
  
The pain was beyond anything he knew. A flash of electric shocks pulsated through his entire body. Engineer screamed as he held onto Soldier with his remaining hand, like he was the island in a heavy storm. He groaned as the pain settled and pushed out harsh breaths. The commando did not mind the cuts he gained from Engineer's trimmed nails digging into his flesh. He let go of his wrist instead using his arm to keep the man from collapsing against him. Propping him up, he held his arm into his view.  
  
“Th-Thanks, Sal.” Engineer whispered, letting go of his shirt to inspect. Turning it around, testing the hold. It was firmly planted on top of his arm. Not budging.  
“The hand now.” he held his arm out. Soldier picked up the metallic construction that resembled fingers, and passed it to the Engineer. He slipped it on top of the base, flicking a few switches on the dashboard, then picked up the dangling disconnected wires.  
  
“Its one fer each finger.” Engineer muttered, slipping them in place, ready to connect. He looked back at the Soldier.  
  
“If ah stop – keep me down and continue yerself. Ya hear me?”  
“Sir, I – I wouldn't know where to – “  
“Ah lined em' up with the same colors. See?” Engineer showed him the wires and respective ports. “Soldier, please promise me yer keep connectin' em if ah stop from the pain.”  
“But – “  
“Please.”  
  
Engineer's watery eyes looked at him in a silent plea. Soldier's shoulders slumped. He nodded without a word.  
  
“Right. Here we go.” Engineer breathed as he lowered the first cable into its socket.  
  
  
  
If there was a color darker than black Engineer sure had seen it. Had lived it. Had been it. When he wakes up, it's still black. He knows he's awake because suddenly light is flooding into his eyes but he can't figure where it's coming from. The world around him was far away, blurred and washed out.  
  
“...gie. … gie.” he heard a voice somewhere at the end of a long dark tunnel. Coming closer.  
  
He draws his first breath and shudders at the way his lungs felt heavy and useless for the next three more gasps, and suddenly, everything is back there. His senses. He sees and hears again – and feels. He groans at a burst of pain rushing up his arm. It felt like he lost the damn limb this time.  
  
  
“Engineer!”  
  
  
Searching with unfocused eyes, his gaze falls on a shadow looming over him. Two shadows. One broad and strong, the other a bit too close to his face, steel blue eyes staring at him concerned.  
  
“Engineer. Do you hear me? Bitte answer me if you can hear me.”  
Ah. He remembers this voice.  
  
“Really, Herr Soldier, can't I leave you two alone for just one battle vithout finding one of you half dead? Vhat happenes zhis time?”  
“We connected his nerves to the gunslinger and he passed out throughout the process.”  
  
“ _Dummkopfs!!_ I could have made zhis much faster and much easier if you two schweinhunds only vaited long enough!! “  
“Hey! Do not call us whatever you just called us!! I will not be insulted by a leberwurst like you!!”  
  
Engineer felt himself rolling over to keep that voice from shouting into his already ringing ears. He grunted and groaned at the pain rushing into his arm at the lightest movement.  
  
“Shh! Look. He's coming around!” Medic breathed. “Mister Conagher, if you can hear me, please say somezhing.”  
  
“Yer yellin' in mah ear, doc.” the faint voice of the engineer rustled.  
  
“ _WUNDERBAR!_ You are alive!”  
  
“Not so loud, please...” he whined back and raised his arm to cover the side of his head. The touch was cold. Metallic even. Engineer flinched – then suddenly sat up so fast, he felt Medic's head knock against his chest.  
  
“Youch!” the doctor yelped and tumbled back and off the bed the Engineer laid on, glasses hanging crooked on the back of his nose.  
  
For a long moment Engineer could not register anything around him as his head began to swim and his vision to double and twist again. He blinked hard against the painful throb behind his eyes. Then, slowly, his surroundings cleared. He nearly laughed to find himself, once again, back in Soldier's room. Sitting on his bed, with bits of small scraps plastering the ground beneath them.  
  
Engineer stared down at his hands. One made from flesh. The other made from steel and iron.  
His gaze wanders over to the Soldier.  
  
“When – ?” he stammered breathlessly.  
“You fell unconscious with the first introduction of cable one.” Soldier reported as he came closer to the cot. “I finished the rest for you, as you ordered.”  
  
Engineer gave a short jerk of his head. “Thanks, Mister.” he whispered, as he looked down at the prosthesis. He gave the command. In his mind, Inwardly, he anticipated it to be a failure. He had never in his entire life build something as complex as this machinery, one that would replace a human limb, one that would connect to not only his nerves, but his mind too.  
  
  
He gave the command – and it moved.  
  
His index finger bend. His breath hitched in his throat. It...it worked. Gods, it really worked! He repeated the come-hither motion again and again, adding a second finger, and a third to his bending and stretching practice.  
  
“Solly.” he looked up at the man standing next to him, watching as he looked down in awe at the final product – their final product.  
  
“God im Himmel, it really vorks.” Medic quickly cleaned his glasses and bend over to inspect the gadget. “I vouldn't have believed it vhen Soldier told me but – here it is. Zhe living proof.”  
  
Medic instantly sat down on the mattress. “Let me see.” he reached out and picked the man's arm into his hands. “Oh zhis is excellent craftsmanship. Do you feel any pain vhen moving?”  
  
“No.” Engineer shook his head. The look of relief and awe, mixed with being so near to tears made the man immobile to speak any sentences.  
  
“M-May I do some flexing experiments?”  
Engineer nodded. Medic began turning the mechanic wrist around the cupola it was sitting on. He turned it in a three-sixty rotation, up and down to its limits. Engineer did not flinch once in pain, nor did the hand fall off its base.  
  
  
“Fascinating!! Oh, I have to – I must – “ Medic dropped the man's hand immediately. “I'll have to show Heavy! A-And Spy – no! Zhe whole team must see zhis!”  
  
“OUT OF THE WAY, KRAUT!” Soldier suddenly pushed past the Medic. “I will be the first to show them!”  
  
“V-Vhat? B-But I – “  
  
“THIS IS MY PROJECT TOO, SO I HAVE THE RIGHT!” he hollered.  
  
“E-Engie.” Medic looked helplessly over to the man lying on the bed. He gave a faint shrug.  
“Sorry doc, he really did help me with this here, so...”  
  
“See? Even Engineer agrees.” Soldier argued like a small boy winning an argument.  
  
Medic gave a huff. “Ve could also just announce it togezher, how about zhat Herr Soldier?”  
  
“Good idea Kraut! But before we do that –“  
  
  
And suddenly, something awfully odd happened. Soldier turned to the man sitting on his bed. He took hold of Engineer's shoulders as he planted himself in front of him. Engineer blinked up at the man, opening his mouth to ask what he was up to – but found his voice muffled by a pair of lips pressing down against his.  
  
Engineer froze up under the man's touch. Eyes wide open, he stared back at the rim of the man's dented helmet in mute shock. There was a soft gasping noise coming from the other side of the room, most probably Medic, who watched the scene from a distance. Engineer felt the man's persistent teeth nibbling at his lower lip, until Engineer opened them the slightest bit to feel a hot tongue slip past them and against his own.  
  
He felt a hot gust of Soldier's breath tickle his cheek, which was just enough or Engineer to regain his senses, and his hand came up, clasping at the man's strong arms. Soldier drew back, teeth holding his lower lip and tugging, giving him the slightest moment to draw a breath, before he attacked again, with Engineer giving a soft whimpering noise.  
  
His insides twisted like snakes and his heart was wreaking havoc inside his chest. Had he no ribs, it would have fallen out of his body of how hard and fast it beat. He closed his eyes to let his mouth be assaulted with sensations, suddenly not caring about what was happening around them, and who was watching, until – Soldier drew away from him, with Engineer chasing his lips for a short moment, before he opened his eyes again, to see Soldier standing again, a soft shade of red on the side of his neck again, and Medic in the corner, eyes wide, hand on his mouth.  
  
  
“Oh my.” he finally chirped, speaking what Engineer's groggy, confused mind was thinking. Soldier left no much space for any further words as he marched out the door, hollering through the corridor.  
  
  
“ _TEEEEN HUT_ , TEAM! Our Engineer has completed a marvelous task today! Today marks the day our Engineer stands as the first man alive that has created an artificial limb that responds to his will! ALL PRAISE OUR ENGIE! ALL MEDALS TO ENGIE! STOP SITTING AROUND YOU BUNCH OF WENCHES AND GET UP AND SALUTE TO OUR ENGIE!!”  
  
Engineer's already red face turned redder immediately.  
  
“I-I uhm. Ahem.” Medic quickly stood, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I'll...go after him zhen! To, ah – spread zhe news.”  
  
Engineer nodded, a but dreamily, as he watched the door close. He stared at it for several more minutes, just listening to Soldier loudly proclaiming what he – no, they – had managed today. Together. He lifted his hand, his new hand, to rest it at his collarbone, in hope it would rest his rapidly beating heart. He looked down at it once more, moving each and individual finger slowly.  
  
  
“No need ta give me all the credits, Solly.” Engineer chuckled to himself, letting his finger caress over each metallic digit. “Ah wouldn't have made it without'cha.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been watching fullmetal alchemist while writing this, so it kinda rubbed off on this in the end. Also Tucker is 100% Medic honestly.


	11. Enduring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER!!
> 
> I wanted to let everybody know that from this point on, we are in and post-comic plot. With comic I mean the tf2 comic you can read on their website. At the time I'm writing this the last issue isn't out yet. So if there is some major change from here compared to the next issue, then please consider this fanfiction an AU now. I will probably not go back to adjusting anything after the plot of issue 7 has been released. 
> 
> Huge thanks to Mincy for beta-reading the first few bits of this chapter ! ♥

_Ten months later  
  
_

It's still there.   
  
In the back of his mind, ringing in his ear. Inside his head. The quaking of steel and iron, the rattling of engines and mechanisms inside rusty, cold shells.  
  
When he closes his eyes for too long he still sees those gray shining eyes, lifeless yet alive, staring back at him. He still hears those rattling voices hollering war-cries. Voices he knew too well, voices he knew to whom they belonged. Watching as the mechanic replicas of his friends attack them mercilessly, not showing a tinge of mercy. It never bothered him that much when he fought RED's, not as much as it left him scarred after months and months of constant war. Dying, respawning, dying again, respawning again – it's never been fun to go through this, but this time it was worse.

There was barely any time where they had any ceasefire. Only to stock up on their supplies, then, wait again. And wait. And wait. He hated waiting. He hated those stretched minutes of quietness without a single trace of a pair of robotic, gray eyes shining, or a single sound coming out of the vast woods and holes they crawled out from. Because he knew this moment of peace was just the silence before the storm.

Engineer shuddered each time he had to remember those moments. Those memories were not leaving his mind, his nightmares. Each time he slept, he was back there, back in the sand, back at the front line, back in the moment he saw them the first time. First the small ones, which already left him in a state of shock and awe, of how he had managed to survive each rain of bullets and rockets, of baseballs flying, knives stabbing and little gray glowing points leveling at his head.

And then, _they_ came.

The Goliaths. The giant robots that towered them and each and every dirty shithole they had to defend in the name of Mann Co.

The same scene plays before his eyes. Giant bodies jumping off the cliffs they came from, their massive legs catching them as they landed, a plume of sand and dust swirling up in the air, building a veil they easily break through as they take their long languish steps towards their destination. Each time in his dreams he stands there, immobilized. Looking up at the emotionless face of a robot Heavy as it mowed down his sentry, himself, and their Medic ; As it stepped over their Scout like he was a pesky insect, squishing the boy beneath its shoe.   
  
As it stomped towards the open hatch at the entrance of the Mann Co building they were ordered to defend. He was standing on his own. They were dead. He was alone. And he stood there, frozen, as the enormous figure stands still all of the sudden – and with a horrendous noise, it turned. Looked at him. _Spotted him_.  
  
Engineer's mind was screaming but all he could do was stare back, stare into those two floodlights. Sitting where eyes should be, blood sprinkled over the lenses. And it bent down. Its large arm letting go of the gigantic minigun – reaching out. Reaching towards him. Digits as big as cars gripped around his form, closing. Squeezing. Pressing, tearing – He's dying. He died so many deaths by these creatures' hands, but this one. This one feels like its going forever.

  
And then he wakes up. And he screams. Wheezes. His face is covered in cold sweat and his body is trembling. With shaking limbs he pushes himself out of this unfamiliar bed and sits there. Still panting, trying to catch his breath and calm his pumping heart.   
  
He feels cold and hot at the same time. Sick and dizzy. He feels up and down himself to see that he was still here, still in one piece. He's still here. Still alive. Still hidden from the world, and hidden from everyone he knew.  
  
It had been six months since the Mann versus Machine war ended officially, with Saxton Hale, just as the Administrator had predicted, letting Gray take over the company. The moment she was informed, she pulled Engineer out of the war. “Mister Conagher.” he still remembered her raspy voice speaking to him through his phone. “It's time.”  
  
There was no time for any goodbyes. No time to speak to his team one last time. He packed his things as quick as he could, blueprints, his grandfathers plans for the life extending machine he built, his gadgets, and left his workshop.   
“Make it look like an accident,” she had told him as he had smashed his own window and thrown over tables and chairs. “In case you will not come back.”  
  
With shaking hands, he grabbed his loaded bags, and left. Didn't bother locking his workshop. He simply walked as quick yet as silently as he could. Doors passed him as he tiptoed down the corridor, all the quarters of the men he worked with for nearly ten years.   
  
At one of them, he came to a halt. Medic's lab. He gulped, yet knew he could not give the man one last hug, one last 'thank you' for everything he had done for him the last few years.   
  
And at yet another door, he simply could not walk past. Soldier's room. Simply looking at the tightly locked door, his heart began aching. Soldier would lose yet another friend due to unfair circumstances. He would yet again lose someone he held dear. At least the Engineer hoped he ever did hold him dear. He hoped he had been his friend after all. That he would cherish the times they had.   
  
Engineer looked between the hall and the door. Screw it! Pulling out one of the pieces of paper all stacked in the folder in his bag, he folded it, and wrote on top of the white, clean page.  
  
 _  
I'm sorry. I have to go. Don't come looking for me._

_Engineer_

  
He slipped the piece of paper beneath the door. Then he stood again, turned, and kept on walking. Which brought him here. Wherever 'here' was.  
  
Once he met up with the Administrator, she had knocked him out on arrival. With one precise baseball knock to his helmeted temple, he was out as a light. He still felt that beating he received on the side of his head. When he woke up he found himself in some...building. A building with no windows, and many, many closed doors. A maze almost, made from cold, lifeless walls of steel. He was alone, and utterly confused – and ugh, his head hurt like ten sons of bitches.  
  
He put his fingers to the bump on his skull. No blood, at least, but as he sat up, he felt immensely dizzy. He fought his way onto his legs and lurched aimlessly through the hallway. He came to a stop at one of the many doors. Pressed his ear to the surface. Knocked. Then turned the handle. Locked. He tried next door. Locked as well. Locked. Locked. Locked. Every door in this blasted hallway seemed locked.   
  
He heard a strange buzzing noise at the end of the hallway, so he decided to abandon the doors, and instead kept walking. The end of the corridor was a large, open hall with, finally, a window. A large one at that. Staring outside, he looked into the sunrise – or sunset? - above a rocky landscape. The dunes and hills were dyed into a soft orange and the clouds above were pink in a half-darkened sky.   
  
He had no idea where they were. Somewhere still in New Mexico, he hoped at least. But this – it looked far more off the roads, far away from any civilization. He tumbled closer, hands pressing against the window, looking outside. Looking for anything familiar out there. 

“Pretty, isn't it? Unfortunately, you will get used to the sight.”   
  
Engineer flinched, stepping away from the window and wheeling around. He had not noticed her sitting inside the tall chair standing offside the large room. She looked awful. Closer to a corpse than she ever did. Hair in long, messy strands, make up smeared around her baggy eyes. She had discarded her shoes and jacket, looking exhausted, but predatory nevertheless. With that single white strand in her faintly graying hair, she looked like a mangy animal – but a dangerous animal either way. Grey eyes stared at him, the faintest glow of yellow shining in the dark corner she sat in. Engineer gulped.  
  
“Ma'am.” he gave a faint nod as his greeting. She ignored it. With languish movements she stood, not showing any signs of the fast escape she had to endure, and the deprivation of Australium, as she walked to his side. She still towered him even without the shoes on. She joined him at the window, staring outside.   
  
“I had built this house many years ago, when I came to this place. I loved the solitude. The drabness. The simplicity of this place. But alas, as every window you stare outside, you will get used to the sight all too easily. And then, it's nothing more but another spot on this earth you have to endure looking at.”  
  
Engineer looked up to her, then back out there.  
“Where are we?” he asked.  
“I won't tell you, Conagher. Do not ask me again.” she sucked in a deep breath. “I still need your services. Don't force me to drop you off the ledge of this rock.”

Engineer cringed but kept his mouth shut. She removed herself from the window, and began walking out through the door. She gave no indication for him to follow, yet, he did. They walked down the corridors from which he had come from.  
  
“My apologies or the unannounced knockout. I couldn't risk you memorizing the way from here back to the base. Has anybody seen you?” she asked.  
  
“No.” he said.  
“I do not take kindly to being lied to, Conagher.”  
“Ah'm not lying, Ma'am.”  
  
“No?” She arched her brow at him. Engineer turned to her, looking back at her with a stoic face – a face that crumbled under the intense stare of the woman next to her. Suddenly, it clicked.  “I asked you to leave no traces.” she narrowed her eyes. “I asked you to make it look like an accident.”  
  
“So I did, Ma'am.”  
“You told him, didn't you?”  
  
He knew who she was referring to.  
  
“I told him not to come looking for me.”  
“You chose your fellowship quite poorly, Conagher,” she looked down at him like a scolding mother. “He is an _imbecile._ If you tell him not to put his head in a lions mouth, he will do it.”  
“Not if ah tell him not to.” Engineer retorted, “Trust me, Ma'am. He won't.”

She sneered next to him. “I hope for your own good he will not.”  
Yeah. So did he.   
  
“I have sent out letters to all of your former colleagues, and opponents, that their contracts have been terminated. It would have made no sense to bid them farewell.”  
“Terminated...” Engineer echoed. “Ya jus' gonna send them into unemployment with nothin' more than a notice?”  
“What is it to you, Conagher? Your family has served me for decades, you have nothing to worry about.”  
“This ain't about me, Ma'am. To some, this has been their life. They ain't survivin' a day without this job.”

  
He saw her pointy shoulders square. “You have a good heart, Conagher. That's what's differentiating you from your grandfather.” The Administrator gave him a narrowed glance from her shoulder. “I despise people with hearts.”  
  
Engineer glared back this time. His goggles obscured them, but he could feel she knew they had a silent stare down.   
  
“You have to learn to lay those habits down. If you want us to survive.” She came to a halt at one point. Her bony finger pointing to a large set of stairs. “These are my private quarters. Yours are at the end of this hallway. I have provided you a separate workshop in room five. Bathroom in door three, kitchen is in room six.” she grabbed a set of keys from her pocket, and handed them to him. “Dinner is at eight sharp. I heard you have quite the magic touch for cooking; and I'm tired of living off rusk for now.”  
  
She turned, heading towards her quarters. “I will return once I need more Australium.”  
“Ma'am, hol' up.”  
  
She set her foot on the first step, slowly turning and looking back at him, folding her hands behind her back.  
  
“What happens now?”  
  
“Now,” The Administrator echoed lackadaisically. She moved her gaze away and up to the top of the stairs as he climbed them. “Now we wait.”

 

* * *

 

 

Engineer scratched the stubble on the curve of his jaw. It started growing, as well as his hair, due to lack of time to tend to it. His life had always been about standing up early, getting ready in seconds, minute-sleeps that were enough to suffice for a whole day, but usually, after debriefing, he always had time to tend to his important tasks. Shaving, cutting his hair, cleaning his equipment.   
  
Now, there was little time for anything really. Or maybe, he simply grew too used to the time he did not spend in battle. He couldn't say this was anything better than back then, though.

Over the last six months, Engineer watched his former employer kill and cheat in order to gain the last bits of Australium that existed.   
  
Thanks to the many blueprints his grandfather had stored, he found the maps of thousands of Australium caches spread around Australia and New Zealand. He felt sorry that he would use his grandfathers legacy to kill innocent people who just happened to find and buy or dig out a pretty bar of gold.   
  
But for all intents and purposes, old Radigan Conagher had not been any better than him from what he knew. And from what she told him. At first he was very surprised to learn that she even knew about him, let alone met him. How was that possible? The old man's been watching the daisies grow from below for almost eighty years now. Must be that she had used Australium ever since that time, then. She told him a lot about the man he only knew for a short time before he passed when Engineer was ten.

He had been the one building the life extender machines for the twins, and for her as well, as it seemed. Often he wondered if this certain 'old debt' she had to settle had to do with the administrator and Radigan. From what she revealed, they were close to each other. Perhaps, a bit closer than she admitted. But she wouldn't speak out a word about this business she had to finish before kicking the bucket. He tried often, yet she kept her mouth shut.  
  
In this large, hidden mansion of hers, she sat most of her time in her quarters, staring into dozens of screens that surveyed what once belonged to the Mann twins. Gray had not thought about removing the cameras as he stormed into Redmon's and Blutarch's territories. Leaving an ever watchful eye over what the missing brother was doing. Soon both of them realized he was looking for someone. For her. Or rather, what he thought she possessed.   
  
“He's looking for the last cache of Australium.” she hissed under her breath.   
“Ma'am?”   
  
“Gray. He's looking for the last bit of Australium out there.”  
  
Engineer furrowed his brows above his goggles.  
  
“He? What does he need that stuff for anyway?”  
  
Her talon-like digits press her cigarette down against the table.   “I cannot say if my information is correct, but if it is, he too has a life extender machine of his own.”  
  
“That's impossible.” the Engineer argued. “The blueprints are with me. There ain't no copies out there. There's no way he – “  
  
“You are forgetting, Conagher – we are dealing with a genius.” she snarled. “If he finds the last cache of Australium, then...” Her bony hand curled into a fist. Engineer knew she was becoming weaker with each passing day, and her mood soured. He never had asked her what she needed the Australium for, since the answer was always the same – the same old 'to settle a debt' excuse. She was earnest, and determined. He knew, since he watched her orchestrate murder after murder to gain it all.   
  
She lit another cigarette. The third one in the last five minutes. He wondered if he should tell her to stop it, why further shorten her life when she was running out of time? He didn't. She didn't care about what he had to say either way.  
  
  
“What was it like?” she asked him then. Her voice was oddly faint and thin. It had to be the first time he heard a different emotion in her voice from the usual anger and aloofness – fear.  
  
“Ma'am?”  
  
“The robot war. What...what was it like?” she asked again, “What was it like to see these creatures, marching towards you? What was it like to see yourself in iron and steel. What was it like to feel this...tiny and insignificant?”  
  
  
He didn’t know if she asked him this to bring back her level of control over her superiority, and instantly felt his deep sitting anger for this woman flare up anew. He considered not answering, until an eerie notion came to his mind. He looked at her. A tinge of pity inside his stomach, because he suddenly realized she knew that if they found out where she is, she would not survive this encounter. As much as he disliked her, he would not wish her to endure the same he and the others had.

“Ah still dream of it every night. They're nightmares. The worst ah've ever had.” he answers, truthfully.  
  
She was quiet for a long while. Strings of smoke rose from behind the chair she sat in, unmoving.   
  
After a spell of silence, she pressed the cigarette into her ashtray. “I would like to be alone for a while, Conagher.” she spoke. Her tone was back to the old coldness; and he was back to being a man caged in a house with a woman having blood on her fingers.  
  
  
  
  
“Yer not eatin' ma'am?” he asked across the table. The old woman sighed pressing her cigarette to her thin lips. “Not today.” she said then. She'd been doing this all day since the news of Gray Mann's plans were revealed. Just staring into the nothingness, smoking.   “Not ta tell ya what ta do ma'am, but ah can't have ya collapse from undernourishment.”  
  
“What's the worst that can happen to me, Conagher? As long as I have this here,” she lifted her forearm with the Australium infusion generator strapped to it, “I'm gonna live.”  
  
The Texan stared at her for a while before he shrugged faintly, going back to twisting his fork in his pasta. Engineer had long stopped feeling awkward when there was deafening silence between them.   
  
As beautiful as the mountains and the desert were, there was very little to fill the silence. At night there were no crickets and by day a faint gush of wind would howl. And that was it. She didn't talk as much as she did when she was out there, commenting the wars he had fought, now she was too busy staring and mull over whatever and filling her lungs with tobacco.   
  
By the time the Engineer was done, brought his plate back to the kitchen and picked up a wine for her and a bottle of beer for himself, she hadn't moved, nor acknowledged him. She speechlessly took her glass of red wine and sipped on it while Engineer reclined into his own seat, watching the sun set. She was right, it was beautiful. And yet, he had grown used to how fast the sun disappeared. How sudden it would get very very dark.   
  
The clear night sky and the beautiful stars up there were nothing new anymore. He grew used to them. He grew used to this. Used to the constant sitting around, waiting for her instructions. It didn't last long until the infusion gave a soft 'click'. The administrator growled under her breath. Her long nails dug into the cushion of her chair, her wild pale eyes growing bloodshot at the rims. She was in pain, he knew it. The withdrawal of Australium led to a quick aging process – and she was already fragile as it was.  
  
Engineer quickly got up on his feet, hand slipping into his pocket. He drew out a small phial of liquid gold.  
  
“It's fine, Ma'am. Yer fine.” he muttered a soft encouragement to the woman as he flicked the old phial out of the mark four infusion generator and inserted the new one. The administrator stiffened for a moment as new Australium coursed into her veins. She drew in a deep breath, and once she exhaled, she looked much, much better at once. Younger, alert, her eyes no more watery and pale, but glowing with regained strength.  
  
Engineer knew these effects lasted for a mere ten minutes, if she was lucky, before she would age once more. But often times, he looked at the image of a young, dark haired woman who looked like she had seen the worst the world could offer in her age. She cleared her throat and downed her glass of wine.   
  
“How many are left?” she asked with a faint, very feminine voice.  
  
“Four, Ma'am.”  
  
She nodded stiffly. Her empty hand clenching into a fist. Her brows knitted together. Once more, there was a long stretch of silence that was filled with Engineer discarding the phial.   
  
“Don't fret. Yer still have some weeks left. Three, maybe a month or two. If we keep it rationed, we can keep yer alive fer sure. If yer willin' ta give up on a few –”  
“No.” She said sternly. “I won't give up on _anything_ , Conagher.”  
  
“Well ah'm jus' sayin'. It's an option yer gotta consider at some point.”  
  
“I have come this far and I will not face this debt as a living corpse, strapped to a chair on wheels and kept alive by a machine like the goddamn Manns were. I will not let that happen at any costs!” The glass in her hand splintered.   
  
“Ma'am!” The Engineer quickly jumped to her side, picking up the cotton handkerchief and brushed off wine from her hand. A faint trail of blood ran down a diagonal cut on the palm of her hand. It stained the neat, white table sheet beneath her in red. In the light, it glowed I a faint golden gleam.  
  
“Ma'am, ah still don't know what debt that is ya babblin' on about fer months, but ah can't have ya waste precious Australium, ya hearin' me? Yer runnin' out of time here.”  
  
She gave a hiss. Like a serpent giving a warning tone at the eagle zooming in on her, like a cornered animal growling at the threat ahead. She paused, then glared at him.  
“Meet me in the laboratory,” she muttered and stood, leaving her meal nearly untouched.  
  
He climbed down the long set of stairs down into the lowest level of the mansion. There she sat, her arm placed on a paper towel, shed of her coat and a cigarette between her fingers.   
  
“So. What ya called me in for?”  
  
“I want you to upgrade the infusion machine.”  
  
“Well, Ma'am, ah'd say this is the highest the thing can go.”  
  
“Then at least try it, Mister Conagher.” she hissed. “I need this thing to save up on the Australium. I can't have it take more than it already does.”  
  
The engineer stared at the infusion machine. “Damn, that is _in_ there. Tell you what, we gonna put you under so ah can –“  
“Just do it.”  
“I uh...well – look, this is gonna hurt ma'am.”  
  
“Mister Conagher.” her voice was tense and low. “I haven't felt anything in a long time.”  
  
Engineer knitted his brows together. “Well...suit yerself. Let's get this lil' number out.” he muttered, grabbed the infusion machine and tugged on it. The infusion tubes slipped from her veins slowly, and she barely even flinched. Without hesitation, he got to work. The thing was small, but he had handled smaller practical problems. Like the gunslinger. Like his and Soldier's project... _Their_ project...  
  
He blinked hard, regaining his sense of the present again, and continued. “Alright, there she is...” he said, placing the new infusion box, tube by tube, into her veins with gut-wrenching sounds.  
“The mark five. Now she'll run lean. Probably a quarter of what the mark four was gobblin' up. But...” he sighed. “Ah know ya ain't wanna hear it. But we're jus' kickin' the can down the road here. If it runs out...well... “

“Not anymore,” the woman said slowly. “Not necessarily.”   
  
“Ma'am?”  
  
“Mister Conagher, I want you to send out a letter to Miss Pauling.”  
  
“Miss Pauling? Why?” the man asked.  
  
“There is a chance for the last cache of Australium to be mine. With this, I might live long enough. But we have to be quick. If Gray is after it as well, for whatever reason, he has a great advantage that we can balance out.”  
  
“What ya suggestin'?” Engineer frowned.   
  
She held her head high as she dictated him the coordinates he should send the message to. He did, although without asking questions. Though he did have about an idea what she was planning to do, and it left a very, very bitter taste in his mouth.  
  
 _Assemble the team.  
  
_

* * *

 

He thrashes in his sleep. Cold sweat on his forehead. His body quaking with violent shudders. Bright round floodlights cast down on him, his eyes burned and watered but he can't close them, can't face death with shut eyes.  
  
And he is death, he is death incarnate. He, the face of a machine, with the features of a man he knows. The Goliath Heavy Robot closed its fist around his body, picked him up with laughable ease, his feet dangling twenty feet above the ground.   
  
Air didn't pass through his lungs anymore. He feels those iron digit clench slowly around his body. And then it speaks. Death speaks in its cold, icy, rattling, iron and dead tone:  
  
 _  
“ I  WILL SQUASH YOU LIKE BUG ! “_  
  


He feels his ribs give in. He feels them break, one for one, starting at the lower ones all the way up, crack, crack, crack, inside his body, the pain makes him deaf and blind and he doesn't hear his screams. Only the rattling of machines, the screeching of metallic fingers closing around his body. Then he feels his arms snap. They break apart like tooth picks in its torturous grip.   
  
He doesn't find the voice to scream anymore. He feels nothing but pain, sees nothing but pain. Hears and smells and tastes blood and demise. He's dying. He'd died endless deaths by these creatures' hands, but this one. This one feels like it's going forever.   
  
“Blamo!!”  
  
He blinks. He blinks again. He blinks three times before he realizes the grip around him loosened abruptly, and he falls back into the giants flat palm. Groaning, he rolls on the cold metallic surface, his right arm burning like fire and his ribs throbbing inside him. His left arm, though paining terribly, follows his command to move up and grab hold of his broken one. He rolls on his shoulder, just in time to see something flash before the giant Heavy's eyes.   
  
Something blue, tiny compared to the giant robot. Then a loud crash, an explosion. The robot yelped out and tumbled backwards, with Engineer quickly wrapping himself around one of its giant fingers. Another loud 'boom', and another explosion close to the robot's temple.   
  
Engineer felt the wind whip hard into his face and around his ears as he was flung back and forth.   
  
“I'll kick your ass back to the bronze age!!” A voice echoed loudly through the night.   
  
“Soldier...?” Engineer breathed out. The giant metal Heavy stumbled, but regained its balance. With as much rage as a stiff face like construction could depict, the Goliath roared in anger at the tiny man standing before him. His jacket was burnt at several sports, dirt and mutt caked his pants and his face.  
  
This was...this shouldn't happen. Why was _he_ here? He never appeared in his dreams to come and save him – yet here he was. And in horror Engineer watched the crazed veteran as he threw his rocket launcher aside, cracked his knuckles, and growled back.  
  
“You think I'm trapped here with you giant pile of filthy junk? You are all trapped in here with _me!_ ”

Soldier tore the grenades from his bandolier, and pushed the rings out with his thumb. Screaming out a ravenous warcry, the man began running towards them, grenades in hand. He wouldn't – would he?!

Engineer felt his throat tighten, opened his mouth to cry out to him to run away, to not do it. But no words came out. He saw a bright light, a deafening pulse of an explosion – and his eyes tore open in horror.   
  
He sat up, gasping for air. For several moments, he blinked hard against the darkness, trying to map out where he was, what place this was – if all his limbs were still on him, and his arm was not broken. Finally, the surroundings became familiar to his wild, agitated mind. Gulping down a calming breath, he closed his eyes, slowly exhaled. Opened them again, looked down at the clock next to his bed.  
  
It's three in the morning. Engineer groaned softly, as he rubbed his hand over his face. No way did he feel like falling asleep again. He really believed these dreams would become manageable with time. Yet tonight his brain proved him wrong. Very wrong.   
  
As many nights before, he sits at a small table in front of the large window, sipping on some warm milk and waiting for the sun to rise. On normal days when his dreams were just him dying in every way imaginable, he tried his hardest to keep his mind off of any of his memories. Now, he let his mind wander and his thoughts spinning.   
  
Not that he could keep them from doing so anyway. At first he believed he had dreamed of Soldier because the Administrator spoke about reuniting the team. He would most probably either have a very dreamless sleep again or dream of yet another horrible, horrible way of being squashed beneath a giant robots foot or blown to smithereens.   
  
Those dreams where he didn't even know anymore if they ever really happened to him, and they ended up replaying like a broken record inside his mind. But yet again, he dreamed of Soldier, soaring through the clouded night sky, shooting rockets at the giants in rapid succession, hollering and screaming and growling at them, throwing colorful curses and insults at them that would even make his old Uncle 'Potty-Mouth Jones' blanch.   
  
“YOU WILL DROP _MY_ ENGINEER AT ONCE, YOU OVERGROWN PIECE OF JUNK!” He barked, sinking the blade of his shovel deep into the skull of the robot. Those two gray floodlight eyes flickered, then turned stale, its body collapsing like a chopped off tree. And he would wake up again, and again, panting, sweat on his forehead and his heart beating like an industrial machine.   
  
Then he would sit again at the small table at the large window, staring out into the rocks and canyons as he watched the sun flood the rocks with yellow and orange lights. He begins thinking about the man much much more than he had the last couple of months. Not that he had forgotten about him, yet he had his mind somewhere else completely, leaving little space to worry about anything else that didn't involve keeping the administrator alive.   
  
But now he finally found a place and time where he could start reminiscing again. He wondered what he was doing now. His good ol' Solly. Maybe he did finally get accepted into the military, as he had wished for so long. Maybe he found himself another job that suited his, well, explosive character. Or maybe he found himself a pretty lady, with a bunch of little Soldier juniors.   
  
His heart clenched at the idea. But it clenched even more at the thought that Soldier had proven himself to be unpredictable, and not well integrated into the life of civilians. He genuinely feared the man had already managed to end up in prison, or even got himself killed. Whatever the man was doing right now, he hoped he was well cared for. That he found himself some space out there in the world where he would be happy. Where he had friends, where he had family. Where he was welcomed. Where he was home.  
  
A disobedient tear ran down his face. He didn't notice it until it had dropped from his chin to the top of the plastic table.

He stared at it emptily and wondered where this came from. Because he felt like he was caged in here? Homesickness? Because he felt, and feared, he would never meet him again?

He didn't understand what he even sees in him. Why he ever considered him a friend to begin with. Weren't they way too different anyway? He was smart and Soldier, well – he was Soldier.   
  
Speak before thinking, act on impulse. He was laid back and took things slow and easy and Soldier did not. And yet, he rarely had ever met someone who was so full of enthusiasm, one that was infectious even.   
  
He shook his head, no, he shouldn't be thinking like that. Soldier was his friend, he had always been, more or less. And dare he say, Soldier was his best friend despite all his flaws. He saved his life. Took care of him. Treated him like an equal and sometimes even above himself. He was a good person.   
  
 Darn. Sleep-deprivation was taking its toll on him.  
  


* * *

 

Engineer was genuinely surprised from which corner of the world Miss Pauling picked up the mercenaries.

Tom Jones' mansion, from a giant office, the far icy lands of Siberia, prison even. He was glad to hear it actually wasn't Soldier in said prison, but to his general surprise, Scout and Spy.  At the end of the month, Pauling had gathered all of them, even an 'addition' to the team. Heavy's eldest sister, Zhanna.

Engineer despised jealousy, yet even if RED Soldier was not the man he called his friend, seeing him with a female companion was giving him a strange hollow feeling in his gut. Like someone bunched him into his ribcage and the pain drilled into his heart. He didn't know why – they looked happy together. It felt like poison on his tongue to admit but they actually fit together. They were both, well, insane to say it nicely. Outspoken and brutal and hotheaded. Let their action speak rather than their words. Fists than phrases.  
  
He wondered if his Soldier was happy with someone else, someone like _her_. While he was here, watching from afar, unable to look when he had to watch the two lovebirds on screen.   
Either way, Engineer noticed two missing people – RED Medic and RED Engineer.  
  
The administrator was getting antsy.

  
“She's running out of time.” she muttered to herself, and stood then. “I would like to be taken to my private chambers.” She said a tad louder and Engineer took her there, not yet sure what she was planning to do.   
“Yer goin' out?” he asked. She was roaming her closet, pushing jackets and coats aside until she picked out a heavy fur overcoat, and a large purple hat on top.

“I have to catch up on her. Send her a message to meet me at the alley, middle of the 7th and main. At noon.”

“Err, sure. Sure, ma'am.” he said, and quickly went to the fax machine. Then he came to a stop. “Ma'am?” he turned around. “Listen, I – Ah would really appreciate if ah could come wi – “  
  
“You will not leave this building, Conagher.” she growled.  
  
“If there's anythin' happenin' to ya, Ah wouldn't know how ta catch up with ya in time,” he tried to reason with her. “Lemme come with ya. Ah'll protect ya.”  
  
“If there is anything happening to _you_ , this whole operation will go down the drain.” she snapped back, pushing the hat further over her head.   
“Ain't nothin' there ah couldn't handle.”  
“You haven't met the thugs Gray hired then to be fighting the mercenaries then I reckon.”  
  
Engineer frowned at her in confusion.  
“Thugs, Ma'am?” he asked.  
  
She gave a harsh sigh. “We are being hunted. _They_ are being hunted. I can't have you be kidnapped by them and squeezed out for answers, Conagher. I still need you. _Alive._ ”   
  
And with that, she turned and left.  
  
At this point, Engineer really didn't have much hope anymore for this project to pay itself off. He didn't want to _tell_ her of course, but he was sure, there was really nothing left of the australium she was looking for. Maybe, he didn't have to tell her at all. Maybe she knew this herself.  
  
Now that she was gone, it left him time to actually do something again he hadn't done in a while - tinkering.  
  
 He sat in his room, just fumbling around with a few gadgets and trinkets he found around the house, and scraps the administrator issued to upgrade her infusion generator. Which inevitably made him think about the dreams he lately had.   
  
For some reason his usual nightmares, as well as his dreams, were always invaded by Soldier. Soldier saving him, soldier popping up in between, Soldier sometimes evening ruining some really interesting things happening. Not that he minded it much, he really didn't want to go back to waking up in the middle of the night after being squished or beaten to death by robots. It was really an enigma how Soldier even managed to save him even if he wasn't there. Even in his dreams he was still there, saving his ass.   
  
His heart hurt.  It was like there was something missing. Right, the place he was in was not very fulfilling either way, but something _inside_ him was missing. Like a chunk of his insides were gone. Like a certain limb he never truly realized he needed until it was gone.  
  
And while he used to fear his dreams, he now felt like they brought him a bit closer to filling that strange hollow spot inside him, even if it was just another dream of Soldier appearing out of nowhere to disrupt whatever his mind was cooking up. And each time he woke up, seeing that he was not back in the simple times in gravel war. Back when all he had to worry about was Soldier taking Pyro's spot at his sentries side, or what's for lunch.   
  
He knew what this was. The suspicion was there. Yet it only truly became his concern once he began wishing to know what Soldier was up to now, where he was, if he was fine, and safe and happy.  
  
When he began dreaming of large big rough hands and calloused fingers being gentle to him. When he smelled his smell – gunpowder, leather, soap-cleaned clothes and iron – when he pressed his nose into this wall of softness in his hazed state of sleeping.   
Felt the warmth  radiate and seep into him.  
  
He knew it had been there, somewhere inside him - at least ever since the large icy gorge they had fallen into. It had to have started there, and then slowly, very slowly crept into him. He had his chance back then, all the way through the gravel war, and all the way through the Machine war. He had his chance and he was too afraid to take it. Even now he was afraid to admit it openly. No. This was not what men were supposed to feel.

This was not what men did. If his momma knew about this – she's smack him upside down so hard he'd wake up ten feet in the ground, that's for sure. And his dad? Gosh, he didn't know. He had been always supportive of him, of whatever he did. While his mom was terribly fixed on pushing him to settle down, have a wife, make children, and lots of 'em, he was glad his father accepted his decision to leave his little Beecave to join Builders League United instead, after the family thing did go terribly wrong.   
  
And, gosh – what about Soldier himself? He didn't know. And didn't want to put up with this at a time like this. And yet he couldn't help it. The idea, the notion was not letting him go, and Soldier kept reappearing when he slept.   
He still sensed him, smelled his scent every night. Gunpowder and leather and iron.  
  
  


 

He heard noises from her room that gave the Engineer cold shivers up his spine.  
  
For a moment, as he left his bathroom to start the day and give the administrator her morning phial of australium, he heard a few questionable noises coming from her office. They sounded male. Talking. Someone was having a very loud conversation with another person. That other person was female. Shuffling. Then sounds of grunts and groans in pain.   
  
Engineer felt his heart drop all the way down into his feet. Fear shot into his bones like cold ice, and his muscles _finally_ received the orders to move. Rushing up the staircase, he barged into the administrators office, not bothering to knock. If there was an infiltrator in there, with the intends to assassinate her –   
  
“Ma'am!! Are you alright –?” he panted. But to his surprise, the room seemed untouched. Empty. The noises he had heard just then did not come from the room itself. Instead, many dozens little screens flashed into his view, showing a bird-view perspective down upon somebody tied to a chair. A woman, wearing a large oversized overall in grey-ish carmoflage colors, stood in front of said chair.  
  
Engineer squinted. Hold the phone – that person. Why was she looking like – like a pyro?   
  
Half of her face was burnt. The other was the face of an old lady, white short hair, and thick lipstick on her face. Even tho he was raised to respect the elder, he couldn't help it – she looked diabolical. The evil intends glimmered in her eyes even if she wasn't looking up at the hidden camera.   
  
Closing her gloved fist around the man in the chair, she hissed at him: “Where... is... the Administrator?”  
  
“Oh for – I don't even know the answer to that one.” the person in the chair snarled. “Only Miss Pauling knows that! Ask me something I do know!”  
  
“Soldier?” he heard himself whisper. His guts suddenly clenched hard as he watched the lady towering over him lean back with a feigned thoughtful look on her face. She turned around and began fumbling around with some device at the table next to her.  
  
“This imbecile!” A voice snarled from behind the tall armchair. The Engineer winced, not expecting someone else to be with him in the room. “This birdbrained imbecile!!”  
  
“What in tarnation's happenin' here?” Engineer stammered, walking close to the armchair. The administrator looked furious, cigarette clenched between bony fingers, her other nails scraping along the table top. Grey eyes slightly glowing yellow in the gloom.   
  
She stared at the screens above her, grinding his teeth. “They found out. About the operation. And that I am giving them instructions behind the scenes. They were taken as hostages.”  
“Wh-What? But how-- When – who _are_ these people?   
“These are the goons I have told you about, Mister Conagher. The ones Gray hired. They were the mercenaries before your period.”  
  
“This one right there,” Engineer said. “She's a pyro, ain't she?”  
  
But his question was left unanswered. Her voice echoed through the speakers.  
  
“So. Miss Pauling knows.” She concluded.  
  
“I--” the RED Soldier stammered. Paused. Then continued with a stern voice: “You gonna have to torture that out of me.”  
“ _Torture,_ ” the Pyro drawled in a devilishly sadistic tone, “Implies that you still have something I need.”  
  
And all of the sudden, a loud, buzzing tone began filling the room. Engineer finally recognized the gadget the woman had been toying around with previously – a drill. She stepped closer to him, then grabbed the man by the face, prying his jaw apart. RED Soldier began struggling against her fingers digging into his face.

  
“This,” she continued. “Is just me killing you _slowly._ ”  
  
The sound of pure agony echoed through the speakers and straight into his insides.  
  
Engineer instantly felt sick to his stomach. Panic gripped him by the throat, so hard he forgot to breathe and forgot to blink, and frozen there to the spot he watched as the Pyro pressed the drill against the man's teeth.  
The sounds of agonizing pain coupled with the sickening sound of 'vzzz', digging through teeth, flesh and bone, made Engineer's knees buckle.   
  
His mind was screaming. His ears were ringing and his vision spotty. He pressed his hand to his head. No. Snap out of this. This is the enemy Soldier, not your Soldier, not _Solly_ , not –   
  
He blinked, and the room in front of him blurred into the dark plane of the battlefield. It was nightfall. It was dark. And cold. Rain splat against his face, hard and fast. It hurt. Everything _hurt._ His body was on fire. His insides clenched, pressed together, tearing apart inside him. His bones shattering. He screams, and his eyes open as water shot from them in pain.   
  
Two giant lights stare back at him. Two eyes, cold, heartless. Soulless. Cold digits tightening steadily around his body, not stopping, not giving in, he felt himself tearing apart.   
  
_Vzzzz. Vzzzz.  
_  
It watches as it crushed him to a bloody pulp. Waited for guts to spill out of all openings of him.   
  
“OORAH!!”  
  
Engineer gasped. He couldn't feel his lungs inflate, couldn't breathe. Uncoordinated, he looked around. Ground. He was on the ground. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. His eyes twitched around uncoordinated, trying to map out what was happening. Why couldn't he move?!  
  
His head was glued to the floor. His arms somewhere beneath his body. He felt hot blood rush out of his leg. His right leg. The other was not responding either. Gasping lie a fish on land, he blinked hard against the veil of red slowly fading into his vision. Suddenly thought rushed through his mind, realization. His spine. His spine was broken. It had to be.   
  
He couldn't move an inch, nothing but his mouth as it desperately grasped for air, desperately clings to life. What was happening? Why was he on the ground? Why did this terrible gigantic metallic monster not just end it?!  
  
“I'll give you hell you soupcan!!” he heard a voice far above him. He forces his eyes so far up his skull it began burning. Salty tears blurred his vision, and he blinked hard against them to see clearly again. Up there in the stormy night sky, illuminated by flashes and thunder rolling in the distance, he saw a blur of blue and orange sparks flying.

“Solly...” he presses through his jaws.

Grey shining eyes search the night sky, large hands comb through the air. The giant robot Heavy swatted after the rocketjumping Soldier like a pesky fly, missing him each time by just a second and a few inches. He maneuvered himself closer to the giant's forehead, until his flaming boots came in contact with the icy metallic surface. The giant heavy attempted to follow the thing that just landed on his own head with its gaze, looking up to the sky and loosing its balance.  
  
Soldier unclipped his shovel from his belt, grasping its handle with both his hands.  He raised it far up over his head, then swung down, dug the blade of the shovel deep into the robot's left eye.   
  
The glass splintered and the light went out instantly. The giant Heavy groaned in anger, giant fingers clutching around his skull to get a hold of the Soldier. He slipped from the giant digit with ease, swinging himself off the robots head, and rocketjumped away.  
  
Soaring through the sky like an eagle, he curved around in the air, shovel in his hand, giving it a harsh swing at the robot's face – crash!! The second eye of the goliath broke into a million pieces, leaving the robot blinded and tripping over its own feet. It tumbled backwards, hands clawing at anything it could reach. Its hand found the gigantic Medic at its side, pulling him along.   
  
The Medic robot gave a distressed, rusty noise as it was pulled along to the floor and collapsed in a heave of metal. Engineer felt the floor beneath him vibrate, then shake as the giant body of the robot collapsed. He was shaken from his paralysis, opening his mouth to gasp for air. He felt something hot, wet trickle down his lips. He tasted iron. Rain. Tears.  
  
“Engineer!”  
  
He gasped again, and suddenly he found himself blinking against the ongoing stream of cold water splashing into his face. Above him a shadow. A flash illuminated them and he saw the shape of something familiar.  
  
“You hear me? Greasemonkey!!” He barked. “Yo have to move, son! There are more coming!”  
  
Hands grabbed at his body, shoved, pushed, pulled. “Get up!”  
  
It seemed he finally realized that Engineer was in fact _unable_ to move at all. Grunting, he wasted no time to swing the engineers more or less working arm around his shoulder. “Stay with me now, maggot. Don't die on me now.” he snarled, and began moving, pulling him along and across the battlefield. “If I have to stuff your intestines back into your flimsy body, I wi-- “  
  
Suddenly, he felt himself being pushed back into the muddy floor. And a noise that sent shivers through his numb body. One eye covered in mud, the other stared back at a flickering, single eye, staring at them. A hand extended, holding Soldier's leg. Pulling. Pulling him towards the giant Heavy' mangled body.  
  
Soldier struggled against the iron grip around his leg, kicked, punched, bellowed, clawed at the ground as he was suddenly lifte up into the air, danging upside down.  
The goliath glared down at him, his face unmoved, yet the malice in its words the robot hissed were leaving Engineer completely breathless.  
  
 _“ E E T Y … “_ the robot buzzed. Lifting its other hand to take hold of the man's body. With a gut wrenching sloshing noise and a scream of pain, Engineer stared at the fountain of blood gushing over the field, over the rocks and grass. Over the robot's face and its fingers. It threw the limb away like a flower petal in a game of he loves me, he loves me not. The piercing tone of machinery snarling through the air. _Vzzz. Vzzz._  
  
 _“B E E T Y …”_ its hands grasped the man's arm, ripping it out of its socket, blood gushing out like buckets. Soldiers scream of terror and pain echoed through the mountains and overtones the thunders above them. _Vzzz. Vzzz._  
  


“ _B E B E M A N !! “_  
  
Engineer couldn't breathe anymore. Couldn't gasp for air anymore. In the last bits of his dying moments, he watched as the robot's hands grabbed each side of the limp body in its hands. Twisting. Like a wet towel, with blood soaking the floor beneath. Everything was dark. He didn't see his friend's mangled body being twisted and breaking. He just heard him. Heard his voice of pain and terror echo through his mind and brain. Just end it, his hazed mind screamed. Just make it stop! The screams didn't stop. They didn't stop. They didn't stop!! make it stop! Make it stop!!  
 _  
  
Vzzz. Vzzz._

_Vzzz. Vzzz.  
  
_

“Mister Conagher.”  
  
Engineer tore his eyes open. Blinking hard, he found himself somewhere completely else where he had just been – on the floor of a cold, small room, tiny screens throwing light into it. He wasn't back at the battlefield. He was...  
  
The tinkerer heard himself breathe harsh and loud. His throat was dry and scratchy and his heart pounding. He didn't realize he was being stared at by two sets of stern gray eyes until he realized it.   
  
The administrator had languidly leaned forwards in her seat and stared at him with a raised eyebrow. As if whatever made him fall to the floor with his hands on his head had been something more of an inconvenience to her than actual worry for him.  
  
He opened his mouth to respond, when another sound pierced the room.  
Vzzz. Followed by an agonized cry of pain. His stomach lurched. He felt his fingers claw into his temple.  
  
“Make it stop.” he whispered, eyes fixed to the screen. “Make it stop – _please._ Ah can't – Ah can't watch this anymore, Ma'am. Ah jus' ain't _– please._ ”  
  
The administrator stared at him for a moment or two; then leaned back in her seat. “No.” she answered.  
  
His eyes widened as he stared back at the old woman in her chair. Her gaze, emotionless, fixed to the screen. Watching an employee of hers getting tortured before her very eyes, not saying, not showing – not feeling anything. “What...?” he whispered in bafflement.  
  
“He said too much.” she explained in a voice as if she found it straining to explain the obvious. “He blat out classified information, thus making him a target. And Miss Pauling too. And especially me and you.” she sucked on her cigarette and blew it to the screens. “I cant risk giving up my disguise for him.”  
  
“Ya can't just... let him _be_ like this.” Engineer grasped for air as he slowly came to a stand. “Ya can't just watch him being tortured like this!!”  
  
“I can and I will,” she retorted coldly.   
  
“He's _yer_ mercenary! He fought for you!”  
  
“And he shall die for me.” she said, bluntly. Giving him a side glance, she glared at him. “You and me know he is too stubborn to let anything else slip. He will die in this cell tonight, if that is what he prefers over speaking. I will not intervene, Conagher.”  
  
His guts twisted inside him. Wrath took a vice grip on him so suddenly. It pooled in the pit of his stomach, every bit of caged anger and frustration that had build up inside him over the last few months sitting in this prison with her.   
  
He dug the fingers of his hand into his palm so hard it drew blood. He couldn't feel the pain he inflicted onto himself in that moment – in that moment, he just felt the unbridled hate and urge to dig his fingers to her throat. _Vzzz.  
_  
He was suddenly up on his feet. To long strides, he was at her side. One swift swing of his arm, and his fingers closed around the woman's scrawny throat. The administrator flinched against his grip, then her body grew stiff with sudden alarm. She made a gagging noise against his knuckles digging into her pipeline. Grey eyes searched wildly around his face as he effortlessly lifted her body nearly out of the chair.

  
“Listen ta me, ya old, tottery snake!” he spat. “Ah've been tearin' a new one fer you every day ta keep ya alive and goin'! Ah watched you kill people, women, _children -_ while ah've been sittin' around doin' nothin' ta stop you. You have blood on ya hands, blood of innocent people!! But the worst is, ah have the same blood on mah hands as well!!”   
  
His fingers tightened around her throat even more. One bony hand clung to his larger, calloused fingers, digging and clawing at it desperately to get air back into her lungs. She was gasping for air like an old wrinkly fish.   
  
“It's enough!! Make it stop! NOW!! Or ah swear ta every Conagher beneath the earth, ah will – !!”  
  
The fist closing up on his face came too fast that Engineer could have avoided it. The impact was surreal. It send the Engineer hauling away from her like a sudden pulse of strength. Something had shattered. Glass. He landed harsh on the floor again, landing very unfortunately on his arm and one of his ribs. He groaned and panted against the pain.  
  
His left eye was blurry. He blinked until he realized one panel of his goggles had shattered and fallen apart. Shaking fingers touched it to make sure his eye hadn't gotten a splinter in it. There was no blood aside from a very large bruise at the side of his face and the back of his nose. Alarmed, he looked up. Knuckles blue and red from the impact, the Administrator opened her fist again, breathing loudly until she collapsed back into her chair.  
  
Her eyes gleamed in the shadows of the room. Golden. How was this possible, his dazed mind formed. How did she – ? The australium. He didn't know just how much strength was truly in this woman now, after injecting herself with it for nearly a century.   
  
“PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER CONAGHER!! I haven't lived through several lifetimes to be stopped by you now. Your bloodline has not brought up a single traitor, and you will not be the first either!!” She boomed.  
He gulped. Fingers once again touching the side of his face.   
  
Engineer heard a sudden crash, and the sound of an explosion from the room. He turned his attention back to the screen. Zhanna had torn herself free from her shackles and dumped a grenade into the Pyro's suit. It detonated with a loud _BWAM,_ the suit blowing up like a hot air balloon, then, nothing but smithereens was left. Hastily, and with a bleeding stomp, she shuffled over to him.   
  
“ _Moj_ _radnój!“_ she cried, holding his face in her hand, her forehead pressed to his as she peppered his bloodied and bruised face with kisses. _“Moj_ _ljubímyj!”  
_  
Swallowing to keep his throat from clogging up completely, Engineer finally sat himself back up on his feet. His legs were shaking and he grabbed the wall to steady himself, then tugged his broken goggles down around his neck. He just noticed a cut on his eyebrow, bleeding down his face. Her iron lighter flicked. She dragged in a deep breath of smoke, and released it. His eyes caught the sight of her knuckles, bloodied yet unharmed from any damage the blow might have dealt.   
  
“You have your wish, Conagher.” she spoke. Her voice was as icy as Engineer had ever heard it. “He will live. For now.”

“Ma'am...” he uttered.   
A bony hand lifted from behind the large armchair dismissively. “While you were having your fit of uncalled-for heroism - “ she growled loudly over his words. “It seems like we have been ridden of one problem.” tapping a long nail against one of the outer TV screens, she pointed at a figure lying lifelessly leaned against a wall.   
  
Engineer narrowed his eyes to see through the flickering pixelated picture. It was Grey Mann. From his back, wires, blood mixed with gold was flowing freely from a huge gash in his back. Lungs, intestines, and other mush of insides pouring out and over the floor.  
  
“The last bit of australium.” he stammered. “Where did it go?”  
“The leader of the thugs took it.” the administrator hissed. “If the mercs are fast, they might – “

She paused then. Took a long draw from her cigarette, then dropped it in an ashtray next to her.   
The deafening silence that followed radiated out defeat. Surrender.  
  
  
“Ma'am.” he spoke. She didn't answer. Instead, she took in a deep breath.  
  
“No,” She said then. “I doubt they will. Miss Pauling has failed me too many times now that I have any trust let in her or the rest of them.”  
  
“Ma'am, don't say that!” Engineer said. “They might be able to get ya that last bits of australium after all. They've come so far, and they've endured worse after all.”  
  
“Yes. Yes, they did.” the administrator agreed silently. “They endured their time fighting for me. Fighting for those useless brothers. I should have let them be killed long ago, just so they won't have to waste my time further.”   
her bony finger pressed a few buttons on the control panel. The screens turned dark at once, with nothing left but the reflection of her old, withered face, pale eyes stony and cold.  
  
“Please excuse me now, Mister Conagher. I would like to spend some time alone."  
"Ma'am, ah don't wanna pry, but ah need -- "  
"Alone, Conagher. Please. I still have enough life in me to do what you failed to do.” she threatened. Engineer's shoulders slumped in the awkwardness of the situation, then, he turned and left, closing her office behind him.  
  
Chewing on his lower lip, he moved down the set of stairs and to his workshop. His heart was still galloping inside his chest. The ear-wrenching sound of the drill still ringing in his ear. This was very awkward, and god beware if he ever came to tell his Solly that he had felt pity for a RED.  
  
But...gosh. He was the same after all. They were the same, except for a few, minor differences, and wearing different colors. In that moment, it had been  _him._ He held onto his drafting table to keep himself from falling apart again. “Jus' look at this fine mess ah'm in, Sal.” he shook his head with the faintest bitter smile on his face. “If'n ye were here, ya'd probs risk yer neck ta pry me outta this shitshow, wouldn'cha?”  
  
His eyes moved to the two remaining phials of australium. Sudden dread rose inside him. Two? No. That couldn't be, he was sure he had more somewhere. They couldn't have...He searched around the workshop, opened every cabinet and drawer he believed could still contain at least one, maybe two more. 

It hit him. Time was running out. Quickly.   
  
“Where ever ya are right now ya damn yankee – ah hope ya save.” He dumped both into his pocket, then quickly ran back down the corridors.  
He had to make a call. Pressing some button on the wireless telephone, he punched the numbers in and held it to his ear. Come on. Pick up. Pick up!  
  
“Administrator! Helen! It's Pauling. I'm here.” she panted into the receiver.   
“H'lo Miss Pauling.”

“Engie?!” She asked. “Where have you been? Where are you?”  
  
“Well now, ah can't say where ah am. But ah am with her. And ah hate ta put a rush on it, but – “ he turned to look at the closed door of her office. “But Ah'm gonna need that australium y'all were lookin' for.”  
  
“Engie, it's gone. The Australia cache, the New Zealand cache, it's...Well it's sort of in space too. I'm sorry.”  
  
Engineer's stomach turned. He sighed, letting his head fall into his free hand. “Oh man. This is bad.”   
  
She gave a stressed sigh from the other end. “Yeah I know, look - it's my fault. Just put her on, I'll give her the bad news.”  
Engineer gave a knock on the door. “Ma'am. Ah need ya to – “ he opened the door. Finding her lifelessly in her seat. Frozen in her movement and her eyes slowly rolling back into her skull.  
  
“Ah, shucks.” he hissed. “Well, she can't come to the phone right now. She's...dead.”  
  
“Wait, _what?!_ ”

“I'll have her call ya back.” he muttered, then quickly pressed the button to end the call.

 

* * *

 

The last few hours have been tense. Tense, to say the least. All they did now was sit in the main hall, staring out the window, watching the dusty hills and treeless planes. Engineer brewed two cups of coffee, waiting for the inevitable 'tick' of the Mark five. Once it came, the sun was setting.

“How long ?” the administrator asked. Her voice tired, raspy. Lacking the sharp tone she usually had. He believed she simply had given up wasting energy on sounding more intimidating than she already did.  
  
He pushed the sleeve of his shirt aside, looking down on his watch. “'Bout four hours this time.” he said. “Talked to Miss Pauling some hours ago. The New Zealand cache is gone.” Wiping down his hand and his glove, he waited for a reaction. None came.  
  
“How much do we have left?” she asks.  
  
“Uh, well...” he pulled out the last phial. “This here's the last bit of australium on earth, Ma'am.”  
  
Her eyes fixed onto him with sudden, newfound ire. “No!” She hissed, forcing herself to stand. “No that's unacceptable. We'll simply have to find more!”  
  
“Ma'am, there is no more.” he retorted.  
  
He watched the woman staggering towards the window, hands reaching out and holding herself against the glass. “There is always more, Mister Conagher. We just have to find it.”  
  
“Ah don't think you're hearin' me, Ma'am.” Engineer's brows knitted. “Not this time. It's gone.”

The sound of sharp nails running across the glass made the texan flinch.  
  
“Shut – UP!!”  
_  
CRASH !  
  
_ A spiderweb of cracks spread along the panel. Blood dripped down from her knuckles. Her dainty shoulders lifted and lowered themselves with each deep, heavy breath she took. Engineer didn't know if he should come to her aid, or console her or...he just didn't know. He figured he didn't need to anymore, once she cradled her bleeding hand in her other hand, turning to him.  
  
“Mister Conagher. Would you escort me to my private quarters please?”  
  
“Of course, Ma'am.”  
  
Helping her up the stairs, he brought her up to the large door, pushing it open, and leading her inside. He had never been in here. It was big. Much too big for a single person, and even with two, it was more than enough room. It was sparsely filled with furniture as well, a single large wardrobe, a kingsized bed, large strange paintings and pictures hanging on the wall, some other gadgets and very expensive trinkets he knew she would never have any use for. The walls were made of the rocks and stone of the big boulder she had build her home on.  
  
It was cold. Very cold, despite the warmth outside, and the fluorescing, silver lights did not give the room any form of homeliness. It looked like just another large room with an attempt at making it look like a home. She let go of his supportive hand to shuffle to the wardrobe. Engineer carried his cup of coffee over to the large balcony, watching the sky turn from orange-pink to dark blue. The starts sparkled down on him.  
  
“Ma'am, I...ah know this ain't easy.” he sighed. “But with the mark five, this much could still getcha five, six months of life.”  
  
“It's not just for me.” the administrator said, pushing coat-hangers aside.   
  
“Right, that 'old debt' you've been settlin'. Ya think maybe it's time ya'd be tellin' me about that?” he took a sip from his coffee after being greeted with no answer. “Mah family's been workin' fer you for...well a long damn time. Ya never told me and ah never asked.”  
  
She stayed quiet, the sound of her rummaging through her closet got louder and forced almost.  
  
“Ah'm sorry that whatever you were tryin' to accomplish here, ya didn't get to. I truly am. But Ma'am – it's over.”  
  
Finally he heard her stop, and let out a long breath. “No. You're right.” she finally said. “I've tried to keep this going as long as I could. I...I even thought I was done, once.”   
  
The tinkerer turned to her with an expression of pity. She was holding a dark coat in her hands, brushing dust and lints off of the fabric. “I've murdered and pillaged people to get what I want. I brought people in danger more than often, just for my selfish needs. I should have kept my guards up. I should have stayed out of this godforsaken gravel war. I should have simply let the twins throttle each other, and put an end to this, long ago.”  
  
“Heh, well – ah wouldn't be workin' fer you then. Wouldn't make some good money outta this job either.” Engineer smiled against his cup as he took another sip.   
  
“I never expressed it. But I do commiserate with you. And what this war has done to you, and the mercs. I should have prevented this if I could. But...” She pulled out the phial of australium. “I still crave it. As much as I did when I was a little girl. I don't think I'll ever stop wanting it. It's become everything.”  
  
Engineer stared off into the sunset. Her words left quite the powerful aftertaste on him. He never had a taste of australium, and knowing it could be such an unpredictable substance, he was sure he would never, either. He wasn't keen on being dependent on it, especially now that all of it was gone.  
  
“But you are right. It's over. And if I'm going to call and end to it all, well...Why not look my best?”  
  
Engineer turned around – and dropped his mug. It slipped from his fingers and crashed into thousand pieces on he floor.   
  
Staring back at him was...her. Her, but so much younger. Clad in a dark, very old-fashioned dress and coat. Her black hair flowing down her shoulder. Wrinkles and blemishes gone, replaced with a soft, yet stern feminine face. Her eyes glowing from the overdose of australium.  
  
“You used all of it?!” Engineer stammered. “ _Ma'am!_ Y-You jus' cut yaself down from six months to an hour. If you're _lucky!”  
_ “More than enough time.” She retorted with a voice clear as water. “Let's end this. Once and for all.”  
Engineer watched as she turned and headed for the door. “I want you to stay here, Conagher. What I am about to do, I wish nobody knows of. Especially not you.”

“What – what are ya plannin'? Ah can't let ya go on ya own.” he quickly jogged after her. “If the Mark five malfunctions, yer done.”  
  
“One hour left, remember Conagher. I have enough time and strength to settle this on my own.” Holding the heavy wings of the door open, she looked back at him over a pointy shoulder.  
  
“I have one final request, Conagher. Once this is over, Miss Pauling will meet you here. Once this happens, take the keys on my office table, and give them to her. She will know what to do.”  
  
He nodded.   
  
“Good. Thank you.” She says, then, she let her fingers slip from the iron door, and let it snap close.   
  
Engineer stared back at the closed gate for a little while longer before he snapped out of it, turned, and stared off back into the last remains of sunshine left for the evening. It was still as beautiful as it was the first time he saw it.  
  
She had been wrong. Perhaps he did never truly get used to the sight after all. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, not much helmet party but bois, i have some of that good stuff for you next chapter >:)


	12. Reuniting

_A month later  
_

  
“Gott im Himmel !” The Medic whined as he stepped into the room. “My lab! My precious lab! My equipment! Zhey used it as a storage room for robot corpses! Zhat's just --- _fantastisch_!”   
  
“Hrrm.” Heavy rumbled a he stepped into the cold room, next to the vibrating man. “Thought we've seen last of dem.”  
  
“Last of zhem? Heavy, mein liebster, we are in _luck!_ Just look at zhis, look at zhe craftsmanship! I've never had zhe chance to carry one back home from zhe battle, and now zhere is one, right here! Build from my own equipment! Look, look, my medisaw! Its zhe jaw of zhis heavy robot! Hahahaa!”  
  
“Funny.” Heavy agreed, not making a face. The Medic took in a deep breath, and exhaled, a smile stretching over his face. “I am so glad to be home again. Aren't you too? Back vizh zhe team, back in zhe base?”  
  
“Dha.” Heavy nodded, looking around the room that had been his and Medic's little playground before. Ruined, and empty, nothing but the cold tiles left, the rest was scrapped and put into the production of robot, and the space was filled with crates of weaponry and ammunition. “Brings back bad memories too.”  
  
“Ja, I know. But it's in zhe past now, isn't it?” Heavy?”   
  
Heavy stepped towards one of the many crates and opens the lid. Anger was threatening to spill over him. He hoped doing something with his hands would distract him. But it made everything just worse. He let out a deep guttural growl and his hand curled into a large fist.  
  
  
“Heavy? Was ist los? ”  
  
“Did thugs mistreat you badly?”  
  
“Was?”  
  
“Did dhey hurt doktor?”  
  
“Ah...” Medic scratched his collar. “Zhey weren't as nice as zhe team, no. But – But zhey did not hurt me. Not often. Threatened me lots. And, eheh, vell, zhey shot me. Once. I-I believe you were present at zhat – “  
  
Heavy had lowered two hands into the crate he had opened. And once he lifted them again, something lied in his large hand. Something white, and soft. And something very lifeless.  
  
  
“Oh.” Medic's eyes grew big at the sight. Then, his face fell. “Oh...”  
  
“Doktor. “ Heavy's voice was softer than usually.   
  
The Medic eyes looked down at the dead doves in his mates hand, wordlessly. His doves that used to flutter around his laboratory and his room, the ones that cooed him to sleep and sometimes attempted to build nests on his hair. Many strange emotions reflected on his face. Attempting to fight woe and anger at once, it contoured into a forced smile.   
  
“Are zhey...all in zhere?” he looked at the box. Heavy nodded slowly.  
  
“Gut. Zhat's...zhat's gut. I- I'll just – L-Let me – “  
  
“Doktor -- ”  
  
“It's fine. I can – I just need to know if –“ he approached slowly, bright eyes focused on the Heavy's hand. “I-Is it...is it Archimedes?” he asked.   
  
“Dha.” Heavy said.  
  
Medic's body went rigid, and he took in a sharp, unsteady breath. Wetness filled his eyes, threatening to spill. Chewing on his lip, the Medic looked away, gave a short, empty laughter, hand rubbing at his cheek. “I-I didn't zhink zhey – zhey vould...He killed him before, you know. Just grabbed his little body and – and broke it. I-I can –“  And then Medic's face changed, lit up back into enthusiasm. “Heavy, grab one of zhe robots! Ve can salvage him!”  
  
“You can? How?”   
  
“I just need zhe defibrillators zhey used for the kneecaps and a power source and – and I need someone who knows how to dismantle robots!”  
  
“Good.” Heavy nodded, cradling little Archimedes in his hand and a robot under his arm, and together, they marched though the corridor.   
  
  
“ _Oh jeez,_ there are more of these here?!” Scout, rummaging through boxes and crates with Pyro on the search for their respective stuff, shrieked at the sight of his robot counterpart. “Ah thought we beat'em up good!”  
  
“Mmhphm!” Pyro agreed, fumbling for a match  
  
“Nein, ve need zhis one! No one touch zhe robot! Engie! Has someone seen our Engie?”  
  
They rounded the corner into the common room, or what the common room used to be. As for now, it was just yet another storage room. Their entire base was basically used as nothing but space to dump trash and rations and weaponry in. Demo was helping Sniper stag the boxes and crates carefully to free the way into the kitchen and messhall.   
  
“ – Mongrels didn't even know how ta use a weapon. Oi swear, hadn't had me in 'ere, they'd have lost ta a bunch'a emus. Ta buggerin' _emus_.”  
Demo gave out a boisterous laughter, but was cut short as Medic rushed past him and Heavy nearly knocking him down.  
  
“Oy!! Can ya nae see were warkin' here?! Watch were ye treaddin,' pork pie!”  
  
Despite his height and weight combined, Heavy had wheeled around and towered over the scotsman with a deathstare that made the bravest man pee his undies. “Och, ae'm jookin', jis' jookin'!”

  
“Crikey, careful with that there!” Sniper winced back as Heavy's massive body flung the robot in his arm around the room, threatening to knock over the neatly stacked towers of boxes. Medic peeked from behind the corner.  
  
“Demo, good to see you! You as vell Sniper – say has any of you seen zhe Engie?”  
  
“Engie?” Sniper echoed as if the didn't even know the word existed. “Thought the egghead had left fer good.”  
  
“Left? Has he not read zhe notice Miss Pauling sent out.”  
  
Both looked at each other, and shrugged. “Been off the radar for a good while anyway, isn't he?”  
“Ah heard he's dead-”  
“Dead?!” Medic blanched. “Vhat do you mean,  _dead?_ ”  
  
“The fook ye think ah mean with dead? Dead. Kicked the boocket, bite the doost, pooshin' oop daisies --”

  
“Enough!” Medic growled. “I meant  _how!_ ”  
“Miss Pauling found his workshop upsoide down, b'fore she sent us into unemployment. Looked loike a bloody bomb crashed into that. And well, he's been missing since.”  
  
Could it really be true? Him? Dead? How? And why? And when?  
  
“Doktor, it's fine. Ve find odher vay to revive burd.” Heavy said carefully. “We find odher engineer.”  
  
“Ach, zhis just means so much more papervork and sending out applications and zhe administra-- err. I meant – guh, you see vhat I mean? Ve can't have a missing team member now.”  
  
“Gentleman, do not vorry.” A voice echoed from behind the Heavy. The scent of smoke and cologne suddenly filled the air, and the slender figure of the Spy squeezed past Heavy's large biceps. “I have a feeling he's back fasteur zhan you zhink.”  
  
Another shared look of confusion.  
“Yae knoow where he's at?”  
_“B_ _ien sûr_ _.”_   
“How? Vhere? Vhen?”  
“His car is in zhe parking lot outside.”  
“Oh.”  
Spy gave a smug grin. “Oui. Zhat. And of course, someone _else_ is looking for him...”  
  
  
He had believed he would feel much, much better once he was out of the entire affair with the administrator, and being kept in her mansion up in that mountain in the absolute nowhere. He was positive once this was all over, and he could once again communicate with other people aside from the administrator, he would be able to forgive and forget. But he honestly had not believed fate would bring him back to this place he had called his home for more than five years, suitcases in his hand, a lump in his throat.   
  
Just like the first time he saw the base, the first time he realized this was going to be his life, with a group of men he hadn't met before in an environment and battle he only heard of from his father and his father's father.  
  
Just as she had told him, Engineer waited in the large abandoned mansion for an hour precisely as Miss Pauling rushed through the door. She looked pale. Her hair a mess and her glasses shattered on one side. She gulped in breaths of air, her green eyes staring back at him for several seconds before she realized who she had found.  
  
“Engie. You're here.” She breathed, relieved.   
“Been here fer a while. Where's the administrator?”  
  
Miss Pauling's eyebrows knitted together instantly. “She's...”  
  
She didn't speak further, because she, and he knew, equally, that her demise had been inevitable.   
  
“How did she die?”  
Miss Pauling shook at the bluntness. “She's...she settled that old debt she talked about. Let's keep it at that.”  
  
“Yeah. Might be fer the best.”  
  
“Engie, I – did she – did she say anything to you? Anything about what was going to happen? Did she ask for yer permission?”  
“Ah'm...not followin'.”  
  
“She didn't...?” Miss Pauling concluded with her eyes wide. She quickly changed her demeanor. “Then – I might not tell you.”  
“You're not going ta tell me what?”  
  
She stayed silent, hands fidgeting. He wished he could have controlled herself, and not further spook her than she already was. But with two long strides he was before her, his large hands grabbing her dainty shoulders and shaking her.  
“Miss Pauling, I've been kept a prisoner in this mansion for months, with no connection to the outside world. Ah was declared dead, fer cryin' out loud, jus' ta be kept here like a clueless child. I  _deserve_ to know what happened, if it's concernin' me or mah family. Ya hearin' me?”  
  
She stared back at him with her jaw falling down and opening again, no coherent words coming from her.   
  
“She said....she said she gave you a key.” She finally said. “It'll open the door on the upper floor. It's supposed to hold all the answers we need.”  
  
Side by side both stormed up the large set of stairs leading further and further up towards the peak of the mountain.  
  
“Did she at least die without any pain?” he asked. He didn't know why he cared. Why did he care? She wouldn't have cared if he died a tragic death, either. Wasn't the whole idea of this six month adventure to learn to not give a damn?  
“I hope she did.” Miss Pauling said. “She said she didn't want to die, shriveled and corpse-like, like the twins. She asked me to... end it.”

He nodded. That suits the old woman. Would wanna die with whatever honor she had left.

“And you've been here with her? All this time?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Why?”  
“Mah family's been servin' the Manns for a long while. Mah granddad in fact build the life extending machines for the twins and the mark one fer the administrator. She expected me ta know mah way around the constructions and fix em'.”  
  
They came to a stop at the large locked door the administrator talked about. Engineer fished out the keys from his pocket and began fidgeting with the lock, until it opened.

Behind it, there was a large, empty room with no windows, no furniture and no sign of life. A single, naked light bulb hung from the ceiling. Even this one didn't work.   
  
“Is, err, is this the right room?” Engineer asked.  
“I – guess. That's the only room up here.”  
  
She stepped inside, and Engineer followed. The door closed behind them on their own accord, and Engineer and Pauling flinched at the noise, wheeling around. Just moments later, the room was suddenly filled with the stinging light of an enormous TV screen. The angular, wrinkled face of the administrator stared back at them.  
  
  
“Miss Pauling. When you see this video, it means, I am already dead. Well, I wished that was not something I'd ever have to say, but – here we are. I reckon Mister Conagher already handed you the key, else I suppose you wouldn't have found this room. I want you to take the keys, and turn to the wall on your left. There will be a small button hidden at the center.”  
  
  
Miss Pauling began patting along the wall, and Engineer helped. One of them seemed to have activated it, as suddenly a small part of the wall slid aside, revealing a safe and a keyboard.  
  
“Once you have found the safe, the code is 2944.” the administrator instructed. Miss Pauling punched the numbers in and with a soft 'beep' the hatch opened.   
  
  
“Miss Pauling.” The voice from the screen said after a moment. “I have had this planned for a long while. And I do think this is for the best. My legacy must go on. The legacy of this establishment must keep going. The Mann brothers are dead, but the lands are still theirs. And you will have the mercenaries fight over them. I know what you think, but no – I do not do this out of kindheartedness. I do it because this is what I have been establishing for nearly a century. Now that my time is over, I hand all my work and all my achievements into your hands. Do not fail me, Miss Pauling. Take your time looking through all the trinkets inside the safe. And then, I want you leave this place. And never come back.”  
  
  
The screen shut off and the lights finally did their job to brighten up the room.   
  
“What is...all this?” The Engineer heard Miss Pauling mutter. She stood in front of the safe, staring into it.  
  
“What is it?” Engineer asked carefully.  
  
The young woman reached inside – and pulled out a map, and a small bundle of photos tied together with a cord. Engineer peered at the map as she rolled it out before her.   
Instantly, both their jaws dropped simultaneously.  
  
“She's been secretly storing australium?” Engineer stammered, staring at the big fat golden X on thepaper. The location of the very last cache of australium in existence.  
  
  
“She store it for me – I'm... she wants me to be the new administrator.” Miss Pauling concluded. Her big green eyes flickered back at the man next to her. She looked anxious. “D-Does that mean she – she could have used it for herself and lived. Why would she – I don't – “ She quickly snapped the map close. The fear in her face wiped away at instant, replaced with a face of stoic determination.  
  
“No,” she shook her head stiffly. “Nonono. This can't be right. This doesn't make sense. She never, ever mentioned anything about that, she never even hinted at this. Th-The war is over, there is no reason to keep going anymore.”   
Helplessly she blinked back at him through her round glasses.  
  
“I don't think I can do this.”  
  
Suddenly the screen went on once more, flooding the room in bright light.  
  
“Oh yes. I forgot to mention,” the administrators voice buzzed. “This building has a self-destruction countdown activated when the safe is opened. You have, ah, I'd estimate a good two minutes left now to leave before you will either get buried beneath tons of rocks or get blown to smithereens.” She said, and the screen turned off again, followed by a sudden rumble that shook the walls and the floor.   
  
  
They booked it out of there as fast as they could. Which, inevitably, led Engineer back to the BLU base located in the desert of New Mexico. He still had no idea what Miss Pauling was deciding to do now. All he heard was that there were suddenly a lot of people interested in buying the stretches of lands formerly belonging to the twins, yet as it is not stated to whom of the two they belonged, and people being very aggressive about the whole ordeal, another war was brewing.   
  
That was fine with Engineer. As long as it did not involve any more robots, he was fine fighting unicorns and dragons, too. A bit ironic after all, that he loved all sorts of machines and working organisms, but despised, or rather _feared_ robots.

  
Engineer drew in a deep breath, and began moving. He still had his old keys in his pocket, and instantly headed for his workshop. As far as he could tell, the base has been used a s one large storage room. Every bit of furniture has been removed and instead replaced with crates and boxes. Looking inside he found nothing but munition and spare weaponry. Well, he guess they could still use this somehow. He heard the others at the other side of the base. He would not go and greet them just yet, the drive here had been stressful and his attire was old and needed a wash.   
  
So he moved on and towards the workshop. He wasn't all too shocked to see that most of his equipment was gone – but he really did not want to see the entire basement filled with robots. Tons of lifeless metallic corpses were stacked over each other, Scouts and Heavy's and Soldier's and Medics...

 

Suddenly he really did _not_ want to go down there. But he had to either way.   
_'Man up, Conagher'_ , he told himself. _It's just robots._ Taking his first unsure steps down the wooden staircase, he saw that in fact his entire room was swiped clean from his workbench, drafting table and crates of spare scraps. Every corner and every bit of space was filled with them.   
  
“Ah, shucks.” The Engineer growled, and dropped his duffel bag. “How in sam's hill ah'm gonna work in here with this?”  
  
He kicked his way through towards the lockers and opened them, hoping they hadn't filled them with robots either. Luckily, that wasn't the case. He quickly dropped his old jeans and olive flannel shirt and slipped into his old blue shirt and overall. They smelled of dust and sand, but he didn't mind. Better than sweat and engine oil, and bits of the heavy downpour he had to endure while replacing a wheel at the side of the road.

He observed himself in the mirror. A smile stretched over his face, that changed into laughter. Who was that fellow with the beard and short blonde hair, posing as a engineer, staring back at him? Himself? He grinned. Then, he finally joined the others.   
He met Scout and Pyro first, digging through crates to find anything of use.

  
“Greetin's, boys. Digging fer gold in 'ere?”  
  
“Mphimmerr!” Pyro exclaimed and jumped over to him, wrapping his arms around him. Sometimes he forgot how strong the kid was, he nearly tore him down to the ground. Chuckling, he embraced the firebug and patted his shoulder.  
  
“The hell? Is that you, engie?” Scout squinted back at him.  
  
“Yup, Last ah checked, it's me alright.”  
  
“Wow, what?! You look so … _old_.”  
  
Engineer thew him a very sour glance and Pyro chuckled softly under the mask.  
  
“No, really! Like a friggin' garden gnome.”  
  
“Ah got it. Thank you.”  
  
Scout himself had changed too. Shorter hair, leaner than last time they met, the hint of a beard finally growing along the kids' jawline. He resembled a man more now than a child. And were those tattoos on his arms?

  
“Inked yaself?” he asked.  
“Oh, these?” he posed, showing off his arms. “Pretty cool eh? Got em' in _prison._ There was this super weird dude that constantly said he's a wizard and that he 'cursed me' ah guess? Puh, whatever right? Still got em' sexy guns here.”  
  
“Scout, why were ya in prison?”  
“Huh? Oh uhm. Well that's uhh...”  
  
“It's because ze town needed something to enteurtain themselves and because scout couldn't shut up at ze right time in ze right moment.” Spy walked past Engineer, a plume of smoke wavering behind him.   
  
“Oh hey come on, I was buyin' us time, spook!” Scout defended himself. “Whaddaya think I should have done?”

Spy ignored him. He stopped before rounding the corner and finally looked back at the bunch. Gray eyes fixed on the engineer. “It's good to 'ave you back, labourer. I was beginning to think you really did pass away.”  A gloved finger ran along the wall, in a faux thoughtful manner. “You left so suddenly, you did not even alert any of us.”

Engineer felt a strange knot forming inside his stomach.  He didn't like the way he stared back at him. Dark with intents that he couldn't pinpoint. And what did he mean with leaving? Perhaps it was the phrasing that twisted the sentence out of proportions – but what if Spy knew more than he admitted?  
  
“Well, glad that ah'm very much alive, and back, in one piece as well, ain't it?” Engineer said, because saying nothing would just make this whole conversation even more awkward.

“Oui.” Spy nodded after a while. A grin stretching over his face that made Engineer even more uncomfortable. “Ah – I believe ze Medic was looking for you. Very important.” he added in a sarcastic tone, then with a soft 'zwishh', he was gone again.

“Spies, eh?” Scout shrugged.   
Engineer gave a short nod. “Well, uhm. If' ya excuse me fer a second. Gotta find the doc, then.”

 

It didn't take long for Engineer to find him. He was practically pacing the hallways along the messhall.  Engineer had to swallow when he saw him again, Him and heavy. Gosh. It's been so long...  
Medic' stressed face lit up the moment his eyes caught sight of the shorter man. “Dell!!” He exclaimed, dropping everything he carried and ran up to him. “You live! I vas told you vere dead. Oh I'm so glad to see you are alive.”  
  
“Yeah, seems like that's what everyone's thinkin' here.” Engineer laughed. They embraced, patted shoulders, beamed at each other. Engineer nodded towards Heavy with a friendly smile, and Heavy nodded back. There wasn't a chance he'd get a hug out of the giant.

“So, ah heard yer been lookin' fer me?” Engineer asked.  
“Oh! Ja, richtig! See, erm...Heavy could you please?”

Heavy came closer, holding out his flat palm. A dead white pigeon lied lifelessly inside.

“Oh, oh dear.” Engineer scratched his beard. “That's Archimedes, ain't it?”  
“Ja. Sadly. Vhen zhey cleaned out my laboratory, zhey killed all my doves, even ...” Medic gulped. “ ... even Archimedes. But! I have a plan!” he stepped aside, to reveal the robot scout dangling from Heavy's arm. “Zhis here.”  
“Ah, err – ah'm not quite followin'.” Engineer blinked.  
“Ach, I mean, zhis here of course!” Medic lifted the robots knee. “It's my defibrillator. I need to to revive Archimedes and zhe ozhers!”

“Your def--- “ Engineer stopped. “They put yer equipment into the robot?”  
“Ja, everyzhing.” Medic shrugged. “I guess zhey ran out of metal and needed more. Used all my bonesaws and syringe guns too.”  
Engineer frowned. “Well, ah guess we're outta luck, doc. Mah entire workshop's been cleaned out. It's a storage room fer robots now.”   
  
“Ach!” Medic slapped his hand to his head. “Yo are telling me zhere are _more?!_ More robots?!”  
  
“Yup. whole place is full of 'em.” Engineer frowned.   
  
“Ve can use zhem to revive all of my doves zhen!!” Medic cheered, grabbed Heavy and the Engineer by their arms and dragged them along. “You have _got_ to show zhem to me! I bet more of my equipment has been used for zhem as vell! You still have your wrench?”  
  
“Err, yeah a do. Brought all my gear from home.”  
  
“Gut!! Let's get straight to vork zhen. Hello, Herr Soldier!”  
  
Medic greeted as they passed the corridor. Engineer suddenly came to a still stand, and not even Medic was able to drag him along anymore.  
  
“Dell, come on. Ve have to get to vork!” He called. But Engineer stared down the hallway to the figure with the large blue coat and heavy iron helmet. Solly. He was here too. Of course he was here, he was sent back after all. He would be completely shocked if Soldier would not have come back to the battlefield, after enduring the life of a civilian for so long.  
  
“Herr Engineer.” Medic's hand grabbed his biceps. “We don't have time to waste!” With a swift tug, Engineer was back to being half-dragged along, half-walking on his own.   
  


A dove feather was in his food. He grinned as he looked down into his bowl of onion soup, and awkwardly fished it out again. He must be covered in them. Reviving at least twenty little white pigeons had left his workshop in quite a mess, and himself as well, evidently. Oh well, he rather had dozens of feathers lying around in his workshop than dozens of robots. He, Heavy and Medic had done quite the job to dismantle the robots. In both anger and disgust, he had to find out most of his equipment he had left behind had been used to build them. Most of his scraps were gone, his refined metals too. All his sentries and all his prototypes were gone, worked into the mechanic corpses.

He would bury his wrench into their stupid faces with gusto, watched as glass shattered and bolts flew out from the casing. Collecting everything they needed , Engineer build a battery for the defibrillator, with the energy of several power cores that were inactive inside the robot's. Medic instantly went to re-animating the dead animals. Some took longer than others. Others did not come back at all, unfortunately. In fact, Engineer was surprised that most of them were even coming back after being dead for who knows how long.  
  
Engineer felt something like a cold grip around his nape whenever he saw the poor animals little body jerk around as electric shockwaves were sent through it. Medic was back to his happy, bubbly self, having a chat with Heavy, while three doves jumped around the tables, stealing pieces of bread from the others, or settled on his shoulder to sleep. Pyro watched the birds intently, feeding them his entire meal, while scout tried his best to keep said critters off of his food.  
  
“C'mon get off! Get off, you rats! That's my bread! Hey!!”  
  
Engineer took in a deep breath. It nearly felt like nothing had changed after all. Like the last year and a half never existed, and he simply woke up from a long dream, and now came back to eat with his team and friends, like every evening. His glance fell towards the other bench. Soldier was there, and he was drinking beer with Demo. He wished he had more time to observe the two, before a voice next to him spoke.  
  
  
“So. Miss Pauling, hm?” 

Engineer blinked, looking up at the masked, bony face.   
“  
She's our new voice, zhen?”  His black, thin eyebrow arched. Engineer felt this familiar twist in his guts, this feeling that the man next to him knew more than he probably should.   
  
“Ah suppose so.” Engineer shrugged it off. “Good fer her, right?” he grinned. The spy looked very unimpressed by his attempt to play dumb and unknowing.   
  
“Ze administrator vanted it zat vay, I presume?”  
  
“Ah mean, let's be real here – she wouldn't jus' pick any random person fer the job, right? Gotta be someone who's well aware of how the job works.”  
  
“Yes, zat is true.” Spy nodded. A moment of silence set in, in which Engineer's eyes, luckily hidden beneath his goggles, went from his bowl, back to the opposite table. Sniper unconventionally covered the other side with his tall figure, yet luckily not with his   
extraordinarily wide shoulders.  A glimpse here and there when Soldier leaned more to the right or to the left, and Engineer would get a fleeting glance at him.  
  
  
“Tell me, laboureur.” Spy mumbled. “Is it true ze administrator kept a whole cache of australium hidden for Miss Pauling to keep on ze legacy?”  
  
  
Engineer turned his head to him so fast he nearly got dizzy. How in the – why did the spook know about this?  
  
“Now that's what they're sayin' right? Saxton Hale's been tryin' his very hardest ta convince Miss Pauling ta give it to her fer protection. Don't think she's that stupid though.”  
  
Spy nodded slowly. “Oui. But can you blame 'im? Every bit of australium gone, just to settle an old debt – if I were in his shoes, I'd be itching to skip ze 'inquire' part.”

Engineer began getting annoyed with how hard Spy was prying him. For what purpose did he want to know everything about this anyway? Did he plan on stealing the australium? What purpose would it be? The stuff is declared as gone, and it never had been expensive either – probably because a normal person would not come into possession of it. And considering it now belonged to Miss Pauling, their new boss, he would be fired, then locked up, then most probably cloned, then executed. Engineer noticed movement from the other side. Soldier stood, and left the table. He gave Demo a last pat on the shoulder, then marched off towards their quarters. He had the urge to follow him, but not with the Spy sitting next to him. He would not give the man the satisfaction of showing any hint of vulnerability.  
  
  
“I zhink he has guard duty tonight.” Spy said casually.   
“Hm? Who?” Engineer mumbled.  
  
Spy's long finger pointed towards the Soldier's back. “Do vith zat information as you please.”  The spook stood then, carelessly dropping his cigarette into the Engineer's soup. It sunk down to the bottom with a sizzling sound.  
  
“Wh-- Hey! Ah was still eatin' that!” He snarled.  
“No you veren't.” Spy retorted, before disappearing with a soft 'zwishh'.  
  


* * *

  
He knew he shouldn't really act upon the Spy's words – but perhaps, if Soldier really did have guard duty tonight, it might be a good opportunity to reunite. Exchange stories. See what time had done to him, and to their friendship. He waited until everyone left the messhall to return to their usual activities, when Engineer began searching around the base for him. Weaponry chamber? No. It was empty anyway, and instead filled with more crates of useless junk. Would have to clean this one up as well once they had the time for it. Perhaps his room? He knocked, and nobody opened.  
  
A strange little flutter appeared inside his guts when he pondered whether or not perhaps he was waiting in his workshop? Maybe he had the same idea of finding the man and of course, his first cue would be his workshop. So Engineer opened the door. The light was off, so he switched it on and walked down a few steps until the room was revealed behind the handrail.

Nothing but a few loose robot limbs and his suitcase. Scratching his head, he stood in the hallway and looked down each of them, thinking. The showers perhaps? The locker room? Kitchen? At Medic's laboratory? No. If the Spy wasn't lying, Soldier would not be in any of these on guard duty. He could be outside then, the tinkerer thought, and left for the entrance.   
  
The sky was already dark, with the softest hints of green and yellow lights in the sky. The crickets were chirping loudly and a soft breeze tickled his face. This - He had missed this. The sounds of anything other than the howling of the wind through dusty dunes and mountains. And the feeling of being free, being a man who could step out of this house without being in danger of getting locked up again. Sucking in a deep breath, he exhaled slowly. He used to dislike the dusty air around the base, but tonight, it tasted real. And that was all he cared about.   
  
He suddenly wheeled around as he heard a noise. A noise at the base's roof. At first he believed it was just an animal that started a brawl with another one. Until he heard grunting in between as well. Human grunting. Engineer flinched. Oh jeez, what was this now? They just had gotte back to their bases, and RED already tried a sneak attack on them? Wouldn't surprise him that much, in all honesty, but dagnabbit! Guess he had to single-handedly take care of that problem.  
  
Pulling his handgun from his belt, he slowly began climbing up the iron ladder to the top. Once on top, he crouched down, gun held in front of him. He pulled down his goggles to see better in the dark, and looked around. The roof was flat, with a few vent-shafts and ventilation turbines. As far as he could see, there was nothing and nobody up here. Could be a trick of course, perhaps the enemy's spy. So he gave a low growl.   
  
“I know ya here. Come out.” he said slowly.  
  
At first, there was nothing. Then suddenly, something moved from behind one of the vent shafts. Something small, round, and furry. Engineer made a step back in surprise. Gun held down at the thing. Two round eyes stared back at him, reflecting the light from the moon above them. Engineer lowered his gun and breathed through. Just a raccoon.   
  
  
_“OORAH!!”  
_  
Suddenly, his entire body was tackled to the ground, buried under something heavy that pressed him flat to the floor. A heavy arm pressed against his sternum. A very angry face hidden beneath a heavy iron lid stared back at him.  
  
“IDENTIFY YOURSELF!”  
  
Engineer blinked hard to get his reeling brain to settle back into thinking.  “W-Wh – “  
  
“I SAID IDENTIFY YOURSELF!!” The arm pressed harder against his sternum. He felt his ribs groan with the force and his lungs deflating.   
  
“Attacking my lieutenant like this – I should send your sorry ass to our founding fathers and have them kick your ass too!!”  
  
“S-Solly, i-it's me. It's me, lemme go!”  
“I do not know a person called 'me', other than ME!!”  
  
“E-Engie. I'm Engie!!”  
  
The man on top paused. “Engie?” he asked, his voice stopped booming and hurting his ears for once, and that was enough for Engineer to nod and try to shove his arm off of him. But no such luck, as Soldier instantly pushed him back down again.  
  
“You do not look like Engie.” he growled dangerously.  
“Is me, ah swear is me!” He choked out.   
  
“PROVE IT!”  
  
“What?!”  
  
“I SAID _PROVE IT_ , MAGGOT!”  
  
“SOLDIER, YA GODDAMN DUMBASS! STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!”  
  
  
It's a miracle that Soldier suddenly pulls back all at once. Nobody called him a dumbass, ever. Aside, of course from Engie. He still straddled his hips, but his arm was off of his windpipe. Engineer gulped air down his lungs and sat up. Rubbing his chest and neck, he looked back at him. “Ngh! Hell, ah'd not like ta be a spy sneakin' around your perimeter.” Soldier grinned, and scrambled off of the Engineer. He held out his hand, and Engineer took it. The Soldier pulled him up to his feet.

“Apologies, Engie. Can't be more careful as for right now. I have a little lieutenant to take care off, and the REDs could attack us again.”  
  
“Little lieutenant?” Engineer asked, blinking. Suddenly something big, fat, and very shaggy climbed up Soldier's leg, then vanished swiftly inside his jacket. The texan made a big step backwards.  
  
“The raccoon?!” he blurted out.  
“Affirmative. This is lieutenant Bites. Bites, because he bites. Alot. _Ow!_ ” he winced. But then a big smile appeared on his face again. “See?” A bitemark, angry and red, began glowing on his collarbone. “Bites like a champ!”  
  
“Ah have several questions.”   
“Make it quick, Engie. I'm on watch, and I can't be distracted.”  
  
He sat down at the edge of the base, legs dangling down. Engineer figured, hey. He already climbed all the way up here, why not stay up here a while. Watch the stars and talk a while. He joined the man, sitting down, one leg over the edge, the other tugged underneath him.  
  
“So – where ya got the raccoon from?”  
“My old roommate was imprisoned, so I changed his big castle into a raccoon sanctuary.”  
  
That just brought up more questions, really.   
  
“Your roommate got jailed? Why? “  
  
He shrugged. “I think it was something about the japanese mafia.” he said. Engineer had to take a moment to swallow those information. Oh gods, what sorts of people had Soldier befriended ?!  
  
“And uhm, why a raccoon sanctuary, outta every animal?”  
  
Soldier looked at him. Despite his face being hidden, he looked offended by that question. “Raccoons are closer to human beings than you think, professor! AN EXAMPLE,” he hollered, making the furry animal inside his coat weasel out and crawling along his shoulder and away.   
  
“They eat what we leave behind. If you look at it from a different angle, they eat human food. They wash their fur, like we wash ourselves. And they have five fingers. Like we do. ” he held out his hand to demonstrate. Engineer nodded lowly.   
  
“Ah see. Well, either way – it's nice ta know ya doin' it fer the critters. But...” he looked at the fresh bite mark on his neck. “Ya might wanna see a doctor. In case any of 'em got rabies.”  
“Rabies?!” Soldier snarled. “My lieutenants don't have rabies!!”  
  
He scratched along the wound. “Only communists and europeans have rabies. I am american. You and I, we do not fall ill that easily, especially not from some nibbles.”  
  
Engineer made a mental note to let Medic know he should have him checked. And then, suddenly, everything settled back into silence between them. Engineer stared off into the sky, listening to the crickets. He would occasionally side glance at the man sitting next to him and stare.  
  
He hasn't changed a bit. Nothing about him was different in any way, aside from some scratches and torn sports on his coat. His face was still clean shaven, and hidden, his face not withered a bit. Well, sure it was only one, maybe two years they had been apart. But compared to the other mercenaries, with their first strands of gray hair and their first wrinkles when they laughed, he was still himself. Has _anything_ changed at all? Perhaps time had been standing still all this time, and only he had moved along. Or maybe it was the other way around? He couldn't tell. For some reason the idea, that everything that happened had been fake, was frightening him.   
  
His face must have given away that because Soldier grunted: “What's that thousand-yard stare, private?”

Engineer flinched and turned back to look at him. He shuddered. It must have gotten cold. “Nothin'. It's nothin'.” Engineer shook his head. His voice was leaden and tired. And drained of any emotions. “Guess ah go back inside. Wanna get mahelf ready ta fight tomorrow.”  
  
“You plan on fighting with this peach fuzz on your face?” Soldier stood too now. “Son, that is a disgrace to the battle codex! My soldiers must stay clean shaven and well trimmed!”  
  
The texan looked back at him, running his hand through his beard. “Heh. Guess yer right...been growin' this thing long enough now...”  
  
“Follow me to the locker rooms.” Soldier said and walked towards the hatch.   
“Err, huh?”   
“To the locker rooms, greasemonkey. I'll give you a shave worthy of a soldier.”  
“Oh, uh, Sal. Ya don't need to – “  
“Yes, I _need to_.” Soldier crouched down to open the hatch. “I've seen how you shave, Engie. It's horrendous! If you can't take care of some stubble properly, I do NOT want to see you handling _that_.” he pointed at the growth on his chin.  
  
  
Engineer crossed his arms. A smug little smile on is face. “Didn'ya tell me a few minutes ago yer on guard duty?”  
  
Soldier froze. It tugged hard on his heart strings when he noticed even Soldier's awkward fidgeting and hesitating has not changed.  
  
“I can be on watch down there as well!!” Soldier retorted.

  
And so Engineer followed Soldier down back into the base and down the hallways, past the common room and towards the showers. There was no one giving them a strange look as they passed, most of them were busy anyway. Demo had fallen asleep on the sofa watching soap operas and Heavy and Scout were playing cards. The locker room was empty. It was not very brightly lit, and pretty cold.

It was downstairs on basement level, so there was no natural sunlight coming down here. Rows of lockers and benches filled the room. His own was at the very end of the row, where he stored everything he couldn't keep in his workshop, else it might get lost. Letters from his parents, old photographs of home, the keys to his old farm house back in beecave.   
  
“Sit down private. I'll grab everything else.” Soldier nodded to one of the benches, and Engineer did. Soldier opened his locker with the combination '1,1,1,1' and began rummaging inside it. It sounded like there was a lot in it. Shouldn't surprise him, considering Soldier proved himself to be a hoarder at times and claimed a lot of random things as his own. He recognized the bucket that fell from its place and to the floor.

He smiled, he couldn't contain it. He couldn't care less that this bucket was tied to an event that once had brought him great pain and misery – because, once again, Engineer realized, that this was real. It was real, and he was real. Soldier was real. He stared back at him, the softest smile on his face. Had he changed at all? Most of the other mercs had some kind of differences about them. A few more wrinkles here, a few more scars and wounds there. He hadn't forgotten that thanks to the respawn system a lot of long-lasting scars and bruises were transferred to both versions on each teams. Meaning their sniper's chest was just as cut open and sewn back together as RED's was.  
  
“Ah-hah!” he exclaimed finally, and pulled out a small box, a brush, and a razorblade. Engineer gulped. Sure he could handle one of these on his own face – but someone else?  
  
Soldier walked over to him, swung his leg over the bench and sat down. “Turn around.”  
Engineer blinked back at him in confusion. _Turn around?  
_  
“Mah beards at the front, Sal.” he chuckled, giving it a tug.

Soldier's lips drew up in a snarl. “Your hair will go shorter too, else it'll get in your eye during battle like a hippie. Are you a hippie? NO, you are not! And I'll be damned to let you run around like one. Turn around.”  
  
Engineer grinned, and turned finally, straddling the bench between his legs. A large hand on the back of his neck gently pushed his chin down to his chest. A sudden involuntary shiver ran down his spine at the touch of someone else but his own on the short hair of his neck. He couldn't blame himself, it's been quite a while since he had been touched in general. Soldier mixed the lather and spread a liberal amount over his hair with a brush, then continued with his fingers.  
  
Rubbing them into the sides of his temples down to his ear and sideburns. Engineer felt himself tense, then relax under the touch. Next came the feeling of something cold, metallic against the base of his neck, running up and along his skin. He could feel the hair being clipped off from his scalp. He didn't mind loosing the bit that had grown while living with the administrator. Having hair while fighting in very hot climates under the burning sun, wearing a plastic helmet on ones head led to overheating very quickly.  
  
For a while there was just the sound of the razor running along his skin and scraping hair off of his head, coupled with Soldier's soft respiration against his ear whenever he leaned forward to get a better glance at what he was shaving. Then an occasional 'zwink' as Soldier cleaned the foam off the blade with a towel. Engineer let his mind wander in the silence of the room. He just realized that there was so much all of the sudden he wanted to tell the man. So much he wanted to ask him in return. But where to start?  
  
The administrator was gone, so – what hindered him from telling him everything he could? He could tell him of her plans to separate Soldier and RED Demo, and destroy their friendship. He could tell him that he had known about the robots for months before they had attacked. He could tell him where he had been all this time, hidden with the voice and – no. He forgot, that he could not. He had promised Miss Pauling not to tell anybody.   
  
“So...how have ya been holdin' up, Sal? Life's been treatin' you fine?”  
“Affirmative.” Soldier nodded.  
“Didn't get in trouble with the law?”  
“Negatory.” Soldier shook his head and the straps of his helmet dangled to a fro. “One of the mafia guys my roommate was dealing with hurt one of my raccoons though, and so I had to snap his neck.”  
  
“Y-Yer killed a man from the mafia?” Engineer stammered.

“Yes.” Soldier looked proud. “They send out more of those maggots but I snapped _all_ their necks. Merasmus looked very happy at the end, had them off his back.”  
The texan decided to stay silent. The sudden memory of that room flickering on the large TV screen, him, tied to that chair while his teeth were drilled into, and the screams of pain and agony coming through the speakers –

It was another thing added to the recurring nightmares he had, that plagued him at night. He eventually would find a way to deal with them as well, as he had with the nightmares of robots, by imagining he was not all alone on that battlefield.   
  
  
“Your arm.” Soldier broke the silence. “Still functioning?”  
“Oh. uh.” Engineer slipped his glove aside, showing him the gunslinger. “Yeah. Still got it. Still workin' jus' fine. Ah still haven't had a chance ta witness its full potential though.”  
“You will have, once we go back to war.”  
  
He sounded secretly happy about that. That they would soon be back to fighting each other, and considering everything that happened the last few years, he was too.   
  
“Yeah. Phew. It's been such a long time, and now, suddenly, we're back to the old days. Ain't it a bit strange?”  
  
“Hm!” Soldier mumbled. Engineer wasn't sure if he agreed or not. His hand guided his head to turn to the right. “I have counted down the days until this useless life of a civilian would end. Rescuing raccoons and snapping mafia bosses necks does not make up for the glorious feeling of blowing RED's to bits, or smashing in heads with shovels. And you? Don't you miss a good kill with a sentry?” he gave Engineer a short pat on the biceps.   
  
“Heh. Well. Yeah. Kinda? Ah guess after the robots ah've been a bit...” He paused. Suddenly the mood dropped, and none of them spoke anymore. Soldier stopped shaving to stare and wait, but as he was greeted with silence from his side, he continued slowly. “Ah guess...” Engineer continued, slower, and silenter. “Ah guess after the robots, ah lost the appetite for _bein'_ killed.”  
  
“Dying is unavoidable Engie. We all are nothing but a slowly discomposing pile of junk that kicks the bucket sooner or later ! BUT - You do not get killed if you know how to fight.” Soldier replied.   
  
“Did that spare ya one or two horrible deaths of the hands of giant robots?”   
  
“...Negatory.” he admitted.  
  
  
There was a pause again, and Engineer felt his chest tighten. “Ah still have nightmares about it, yknow.”   
  
  
Soldier's hand stopped, the blade still at his scalp. “About the robot's. The big one's in particular. “ he chuckled because he knew it was ridiculous to still feel fear for something that stopped existing and most probably would never return.  “What about yaself?”  
  
Soldier grunted. “I don't have nightmares.” he says. “I NEVER have nightmares.”  
  
Engineer nodded, and swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“Yeah. Seems like y'all been very good at handlin' that heavy stuff, huh?”  
  


Soldier grabbed the towel and ran it over his scalp. The feeling of his now sandy, short hair bristling again the towel made him shiver again. “We're done?”  
  
“Yessir. Hair's all gone.” Soldier said, and Engineer ran his hand along his head. It was really weird to go nearly bald again, but he did not complain. He smiled. “Mh, yeah. Better than I ever do.”  
  
“Do not think we are done yet, professor. I will wash this off first, then get that hippie beard out of your face.”  
  
Soldier stood, carrying the towel and blade to the nearest basin. The hand running along his scalp ended up running down his face and resting there. Rubbing along the side of his face. In a way, he wished he could stay focused like Soldier did. It really seemed like there was absolutely nothing that could break the man down. Near-death? No chance. Giant robots? Nothing.   
  
He felt foolish all of the sudden. And childish. For being still so affected by what has happened, and what his mind brewed up at night. Why could they just move on, and he couldn't ? Perhaps, so he hoped, being back in his old base would clear his mind, bring back new, better memories, and free him of sleepless nights. Soldier returned and sat back down. Engineer turned, scooted closer. Soldier wordlessly took a hold of Engineer's jaw, gently lifting it up, and putting on lather, before setting the blade at the remaining hair on his sideburns.   
  
He felt a bit uncomfortable with a sharp blade so close in his face, and without goggles or without the control of his own hands working on him. But he trusted Soldier. Working from this angle, Engineer could finally take him in better. He had discarded his jacket. The white shirt he usually wore beneath was covered in little scratches and torn sports, most probably from the raccoons he was fostering. And he noticed the shirt looked a bit...tighter on him as usual. Either he gained more muscles, or more weight. A thought flashed through Engineer's mind that he didn't even care about that – that he still looked as intimidating and pert and good as ever.   
  
Soldier turned his head to the side to get better access, leaning in closer. His warm breath tickled along his face. His eyes flickered down to the Soldier's pouting mouth, and suddenly wanted to touch. Just touch, not kiss, but … that alone was weird to think. Wrong to think. But he still wanted to.   
  
Instead he tried focusing on the bitemark on the side of Soldier's face. “Shucks. Still bleedin', this here.” Engineer murmured, and reached out. His fingers running along the four small holes in his skin and brushing off droplets of blood oozing out. “Yer not in any pain?”  
  
Soldier shook his head slowly. He had pause with shaving for a moment, but continued slowly. “This is nothing. If he wants, Lieutenant Bites knows how to tear off fingers and toes!”   
  
“And...has he done that before?”   
“He did. Thankfully my roommate had some come-back-stronger medicine in his cabinet. I think it's for his flimsy heart problems.”  
  
Engineer began feeling more and more creeped out by that roommate of his.

  
“What's his name again?”  
“Merasmus the magician.” Soldier answered. “But he lost his wizard license a few years ago.”  
  
“Hmm, that's strange, Scout's been tellin' me he and Spy have met a magician in prison, actually. Maybe's the same one?”  
  
Soldier visibly cringed as the texan mentioned the Spy. His lips curled into a snarl and he pulled the blade through the towel a bit faster and a bit harder than before.  
  
He blinked in confusion. He knew Soldier didn't like him, but – even after all that happened, he was still pissed when you just mention his name?  
  
“Yer still mad about that 'ah deserve better company' stuff he said to ya nearly three years ago?”  
  
“You think I care what the spook has to say?” Soldier growled. He let go of his face and stopped shaving, his hands setting on his thighs and he leaned back further. “He's been sneaking around me and you all day long.”  
“He – really? How didya notice?”  
  
“I know how a spy works. He thinks I can't see, or hear him, but I can. He's been following you around for hours, constantly hovering around you. Whenever he tried getting too close to me, I made sure myself he would stay off of my back.”  
  
Engineer's face contoured as he realized that maybe instead of shock, it had been spy grabbing at him when Medic brought his dove back to life. He felt his body quiver in anger and disgust.  “Heckin' spies.” he spat. “He's been on me ever since I came back from – “He stopped. Looked up at the man. Stared, then shook his head.  
  
  
“Engie.” he said. His voice softer than before, but still filled with its usual authoritarian sound.“Where have you been?”  
  
Engineer knew he looked guilty. He knew he was putting the man's trust at risk. Two strong hands suddenly clamped down on his shoulder, hard enough to startle him. Soldier was looming over him, his stance tense, but non-aggressive.   
  
“Where? Engie, where?” he asked, giving his shoulders a jerk. The tinkerer stared back in surprise. He blinked confused, then his shaking hands took hold of Soldier's wrists, gently urging them to let go of him.  
  
“Ah can't – ah can't tell you. Solly, ah can't. If ah do, she's – the administrator ordered Miss Pauling to kill me, and anybody ah tell. Ah can live with maself getting' killed, but you, I – please don't make me do that.”  
  
Soldier stared back at him for a while. The he slowly let go of him, Engie's hands still on his wrist. He couldn't read his emotions. He looked...sad? No. Disappointed? He couldn't tell. Angry, maybe? He sat up then, chest out and head held high.  
“Spoken like a true patriot. Americans are NEVER snitching! I would not have expected anything else from you.”  
  
For some reason those words felt very empty in his ears. It nearly felt like he tried to tell him to forget he asked. Picking up the blade again, he went back to shaving his face. Slow, deliberate, long strokes along his face to remove even the tiniest stubble. Shaving off the last bits of his sideburns, he let the blade run down and along the underside of his jaw. Engineer felt himself tense s the sharp object ran down and along his jugular. He knew Soldier wouldn't hurt him, but –   
  
“Wherever you have been,” Soldier rumbled. “Did they treat you at least with the amount of respect an american deserves?”  
“Uh. What?”  
“If you cannot tell me where you've been, I at least want to know if they treated you well. If it's been some filthy europeans you've had to deal with, I will take all measures to teach these fruitcake - bastards a lesson – “  
  
“Sal, calm down. I'm alright. I've been treated well.”  
He was lying, more or less, but what can he do? Send Soldier after an already dead person?  
“And ah'm alive.”  
Soldier nodded. “Good. That's...that's good.”  
“Yeah.” Engineer offered him a charming smile. He ran his hand along his jaw and face. Shaved clean. Wow. It felt strange to touch his bare chin again.   
  
“Well, this gotta be the nicest shave ah've ever gotten. Thank ya kindly, Mister.”  
  
Soldier nodded. “You are welcome, Engineer.” he passed him the towel. “Now this is how an american must face the battle. With no hair in the eyes, and no hair around his food hole.”

Engineer laughed. After a long while, laughing felt strange, but so, so nice, so freeing. And he opened his eyes and he realized, as he looked back at the man in front of him, how badly he suddenly wanted to touch him. To touch, and feel, and hold. It was cold and Soldier was always warm. It felt like someone punched a fist made of butterfly wings into the pit of his stomach, leaving something warm and buzzing. It's like his body and mind finally found one another, finally realized that this is here, it's real. It's back to what it used to be.   
  
“Please don't call it food hole again,” Engineer chuckled. His hand came up, and rested at the back of the man's nape. “It's too funny ta take seriously.”   
  
Unfortunately the time apart did not make Soldier any shorter, and himself any taller. Engineer scooted close, and stretched. His lips softly touching his.  
  
Oh yes. They were still the same as they were before. Soft, with the slightest hint of chappy, scars and crevices. Warm. Like everything about him. And unmoving. And that's when Engineer finally realized it – Soldier wasn't kissing him back. He sat there, not moving, not reacting. Just letting it happen. And the butterflies inside him instantly turned to lead. It suddenly occurred to him that there might be a chance that Soldier … might not kiss him back, ever.  
  
A chance that whatever they had before the war before their separation was, well – nothing to him anymore. His heart clenched, hard, like a fist around it squeezing tightly. He felt even dumber than he did before, and even more shattered and confused. He pulled away, slowly, already preparing an explanation, or an apology – and then it came.   
  
  
Soldier pressed back. Careful at first, and then, with a sudden, familiar force and passion that took the Engineer by surprise. A large hand curled around his hairless head to hold him while Soldier pressed his lips against his. The other hand encircling him, pulling him closer. Engineer held onto his taut shoulders as he was pressed against a large wall of muscles and warmth. His leg awkwardly folded over Soldier's thigh until they were flush against one another. Engineer felt teeth nibble at his lower lip, a kiss on the side of his mouth, another nibble, another kiss – and then he spoke.   
  
“You damn maggot.” he growled. There was a sort of – gods, he couldn't describe it any other way – desperation in his voice. “I've been looking for you. _Everywhere._ ”  
“B-Been lookin' fer me...?” Engineer repeated, a bit hazed from the sudden rush of adrenaline in his head. “But ah told ya not to--” Lips found the side of his neck and suckled, nibbled.   
  
He could feel his own pulse there beating against Soldier's mouth, and it spiked as Soldier sunk his teeth there. Oh god, that's gonna leave a mark, his head told him. But before he could care about it, he spoke again.  
  
“You think this was gonna stop me? I believed you were kidnapped, and killed! And – and – “  
  
“Sal.” Engineer gently pushed him until they were back face to face. His hands leaving his shoulders to hold his jaw. “Ah'm fine. Ah'm okay, ah jus' – ah had to go. Please jus' trust me. Ah can't tell you the details, but ah wouldn't lie to ya. ”  
  
He could see the man's mind progress his words behind the helmet. He nodded slowly. Engineer smiled, stroking his cheek with the back of his fingers. “That's mah Soldier- boy.”  
  
  
Soldier's hand, still resting on his nape, gave it a soft squeeze. Instantly he was reminded on just how close they were and how much he wanted to kiss him again. He leaned in, and this time, Soldier did too, meeting half-way. Opening their lips, they explored each others mouths, while their hands began to wander. Engineer's hand traveled down his neck, softly rubbing soothing circles into the bite mark his raccoon left, then gently massaged his shoulders.  
  
Soldier murmured a soft moan against his mouth as his hands squeezed along a tense muscle there. He seemed to relax, his body melting against his own, breathing deeply. Feeling risky, he let a hand vanish beneath the collar of his shirt to squeeze and massage along the naked skin of his trapezius. He seemed to do something right because Soldier growled and grunted in approval.   
  
Baring his short nails, he ran them up and along his neck to the short bits of hair beneath the helmet. Hissing, Soldier bucket against him, throwing Engineer out of focus at the sudden blissful friction. Soldier's hands clung a bit tighter to his back, squeezing, just holding, waiting for a new touch. And Engineer delivered, running his fingers further up his scalp and into the helmet, feeling short hair bristle against his skin. Nearly as short as his own. Still enough to make Soldier thrust back against him with a gasp.   
  
  
“Engie.” he rumbled. Suddenly, he pushed, and Engineer fell back onto the bench below them, with Soldier leaning over him. Kissing him, kissing his cheek, his nose, his jawline, down to the collar of his shirt. The texans legs dangled a bit awkwardly around Soldier's hips, until he settled them down, the heels of his dirty boots on the small of his back. He ground down against him, slowly, hard, deliberate. Engineer let his head fall back. Electric shocks ran from between his rapidly hardening groin to his abdomen and into every inch of his body.   
  
The bench was small, so he could feel Soldier was trying to keep his balance with every long thrust of his hips. Engineer's hands moved down to hold onto his hips. “ Yeah, there, that's the spot.” Engineer murmured a bit dazed as Soldier sped up his rubbing. The tinkerer drew in a sharp breath.  
  
“ _Ah_ , I'd love ta have ya outta those clothes, pardner.” he breathed, Soldier answering with a deep approving grunt, hands fumbling around with the man's shirt that was tugged inside his belt. Pulling, he freed it finally, drawing it up to his arms. Soldier sat up, and scrambled out of his shirt. What was a hint on his shirts revealed to be much worse on his skin. Scratches and claw marks and bitemarks. Some that healed, some were still fresh. Once freed of the shirt, he came back down, leaning into the Engineer to kiss him once more. Engineer let his fingers run down and along his spine, feeling many more clawmarks.  
  
“Mhh. Sal. Ya gotta promise me ta not let yer raccoons use ya as a – _Oh._ Nnh. As a jungle gym.”  
“I don't mind a few scratches.” he breathed back, “I can handle them.”

“W-Well ah can't handle ta be in them pants anymore. Ya feelin' me?” for emphasis, he let his hand run up the Soldier's thigh. He didn't even have to touch to know that he was straining painfully against his slacks. Beginning to unzip his fly, he noticed Soldier was nibbling at his earlope. He chuckled, breathy, while unbuckling his belt. Soldier's own fingers were very busy trying to undo the straps of his overall while simultaneously pushing them down his shoulders. Inevitably, lying against each other on restricted leverage was not working out.  
  
“Hol' up, jus', hold up a sec.” Engineer gently pushed him off of him, and stood. Soldier followed him immediately. Poor guy looked confused for a moment as to why Engie was walking away – until he saw his fingers working on his shirt and overall, until he was out of them. Carelessly tossing his wife-beater aside, he pushed his pants down, and out of his boots. He noticed Soldier was looking at him in silent awe, and all the engineer could do was laugh again, his face heating up.  
  
“C'mere.” the texan rumbled softly, stepping towards him, grabbing his belt, and pulling him in for a wet kiss on his adams apple. It bobbed as Soldier swallowed. Engineer grinned into his neck, taking a deep breath. Leather, gunpowder, a slight tinge of tobacco. His chest against his own, he felt him radiating warmth. He wanted nothing more to just hold him close and feel his warmth seep into him, but he was most definitely overdressed.  
  
Finishing what he started, he unbuckled him, then undid the buttons. Hooking his thumbs into Soldier's waistband, he pulled them down, plus underwear. The commando's hot member, freed of its cage, pulsed against his abdomen, heavy and demanding. He crossed his arms over the man's shoulders, rubbing himself against him. He felt him shiver in his arms, his solid statue growing weak in his grasp as he trapped his cock between their stomachs.   
  
He had to stand on his toes to fully gain height, then back until his soles touched the cold floor. Soldier gave out a low growl, gulped, head plus helmet clanking against his own. He wanted to remove the helmet from his head. But he knew if he did, he would probably spook the man. He never took it off, not ever – he didn't even truly know what he looked like. What the color of his eyes were. Shamefully he noticed the sudden spike in arousal at that notion.   
  
It just added a certain edge of excitement to the whole ordeal. He added a hand now, reaching down to cup the head of the man's erection, rubbing. The Soldier groaned, suddenly leaning against him heavily, with both hands clawing at his lower back for stability.   
  
A trickle of precum oozed out from his tip and spread over the Engineer's bellybutton. He shuddered.  
  
  
“Turn around.” Soldier panted against his ear.  
  
  
Engineer didn't really comprehend his request until he was very suddenly flung around, a broad chest pressing hard against his back. Suddenly Engineer found himself pressed against the iron door of one of the many empty lockers, hands pressed against the cold surface. Behind him, he was cocooned in heat. Soldier's hands held his hips, while he ground against the small of his back, down into the cleft of his ass, grunting with gusto at the friction.  
  
He took his sweet time with rolling his erection up and down his lower back. A hand next to his head to keep them both from falling into each other, the other rubbing along his hip, over his stomach, thick fingers threading through the patch of hair that grew from his bellybutton down to his length. A bit clumsy, he pawed at him, not sure what and where to touch correctly, but gods, he still felt his heart quicken and a flinch of pleasure inside his stomach. As quick as it came, his hand left him again, holding onto his hips now with an iron grip. Without a warning, he pushed himself against his opening – Engineer cried out.  
  
  
“W-Wait, _augh,_ hold on, stop – stop.” his hand reached behind him, digging his nails into the Soldier's hipbone. _“Stop.”  
  
_  
“What? What is it?” Soldier snarled against his neck, his voice vibrating against his skin and making him shudder even harder.  
  
“S-Slowly. Okay? Slowly. Y-Yer a big boy, gotta – gotta do it slow.” was all he managed with his hazy mind, filled with pain and hunger.   
  
He didn't know if the commando understood, because he leaned into him, until he was fully sandwiched between Soldier's body and the locker. A strong arm was wrapped around his midsection, and the Soldier's face pressed against the side of his neck. And for a while they stood like this, their quickened breathing all the sounds that existed.   
  
The tinkerer took a bit comfort in the hug and the warmth of his heated body against his while he felt like he was torn open down there. Good thing he had the wits to stop him from forcing his way into him, otherwise this was going to have been a very painful experience. And slowly, he let his body settle, relax, and instantly he was rewarded by feeling the Soldier slip into him easier, inch by inch. The pain was still there, but the more he moved in, the better it felt. And just like that Soldier's hips were flush against his backside.   
  
He pulled back, slowly, like he asked him to do – and drove himself back inside him. And finally, Engineer felt the pain subside, giving into what he had craved so much - He felt filled, and his insides burned whenever he drove out of him, sated and completed when he thrust back into him. The texan's jaw dropped, letting out a gruff sound of approval that seemed to spur the Soldier on further.   
  
Cradling his body against his own in his strong arm, with his other stabilizing them against the locker door, he began thrusting harder, quicker. Hips snapping back and forth, he felt his knees nearly giving in. He clenched his teeth as he pushed back against the force of the man above him, until they fell into a well-tuned rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty hall, Engineer's and Soldier's occasional grunts, sighs and gasps breaking through the silence as well.  
  
The tinkerer wished he had something else to hold on to than the flat cold surface he was pushed against, and his hand blindly reached out, grabbing onto the Soldier's nape. He felt sweat there, under the thin layer of sandy hair. In return, Soldier's teeth sunk into his shoulder,

“Sal – !” Engineer groaned in a startle at the sudden pain, his heart leaping at the thought that it must have left a mark there, from how hard he bit him. He gave a soft sob, both with the pain and the pleasure combined as Soldier kissed along the mark, and accelerated his thrust until he was pounding into him like a jackhammer. Sweat rolled down his face, his limbs quivering. Gosh, if this is what it could be like, he dreaded their first time, when it was all forced and inexperienced. But he didn't blame himself or Solly.   
  
First times were meant to be awkward. This here however was like nothing he ever felt. It felt strange, scary, out of this world. Never felt his body so limb and submissive to something so good, something so intense, let alone someone else's force – and judging from the array of noises the man above him made, he knew the feeling was mutual. His hand on his nape absentmindedly rubbed up and down , bristling through the hair there.  
  
The man above him gasped, back arched all of the sudden, hips stuttering. Oh? Engineer did it again, and Soldier pushed out a quick breath between clenched teeth. Then it suddenly made sense to him. _His hair_...   
  
He murmured something against his nape.  
“W-What?” Engineer stammered.   
Soldier rumbled again.  
“G-Gotta speak up, pardner.”  
  
The arm around him tightened, hand clawing at his body.  
  
 _“More.”_ he rasped against his earlobe, rough and demanding. And Engineer felt like he would melt right here and there. Gulping, he let his hand slip up and beyond the lid of the helmet, running thick fingers through the spiky stubble of hair he had there. Soldier groaned, hips returning to roughly slap against his own, deep and hard and quick, and Engineer realized with a sudden flinch in his guts that he was close, very close. That hot knot forming in his abdomen aching to snap -   
  
  
And suddenly there was another noise. And Engineer froze. And Soldier froze too. It was the sound of the door opening. Foot steps. Quick and light. A very boyish voice softly humming a tune as he skipped along the rows of lockers. Took them only a mere moments to realize it was the Scout, merrily coming closer. And closer. And then he came to a still stand a mere two rows of lockers apart from them. Engineer kept his jaw locked tight to stop any noises of his heavy breathing. Soldier had lifted his head like an alert meerkat, and his hips pressed against him, still, yet quivering with the effort.  
  
They heard a locker being unlocked and the door opening with an echoing creak. For a while there was just shuffling to hear, objects being placed on the metal container, clothes being handled with – suddenly a short, smug laughter.  
  
“Heyy, Miss Pauling.” Scout greeted, and Engineer's heart nearly stopped beating at this point. Oh nono, not Miss Pauling as well! It would be bad enough to be spotted by the Scout, but their boss too ?!  
Silence. Then again, “ _Heyy,_ Miss Pauling,” Scout called, this time his voice doing a little jump.   
  
“Miss Pauling, you're looking especially _fine_ today. No, uhm...Good evening Miss Pauling, what a pleasant surprise.”  
  
And then it dawned on him. – was the boy training his pick up lines here in the locker rooms? He suddenly felt pressure and friction inside him, and Soldier making a few soft noises. Looks like he was threatening to loose the battle of standing still with his cock still buried deep in him, for he was beginning to roll his hips again.   
  
Nonono, not a good idea. Engineer slipped his arm that was trapped between them. He brought it down, grabbing at the Soldier's balls with a warning grip. He heard the military man make a sudden startled noise, and stood still again. But now he noticed every bit of noise the Scout was making had ceased too.  
  
“Uh. Hello?” he asked into the silence. Footstep again. Walking, but not coming closer. “Anybody here?”   
  
Soldier was the loudest person Engineer knew, but in that moment, even a church mouse could not have been more quiet than he was.   
  
“Meh.” Scout audibly shrugged, and went back to his locker, wrapping things up with whatever business he was doing there. The locker door closed, and Scout walked back towards the door, whistling the melody to whatever Tom Jones song was stuck inside his head.   
  
  
Then, silence returned. And in the silence, they both let out a breath they were holding. Engineer even laughed. “Can ya believe he's still tryin' ta woo Miss Pauling while we are ruttin' like animals jus' a few feet away?”   
  
Soldier grunted with a strained voice. Engineer realized he was still giving his privates a very tight handle, so he loosened his grip, instead giving them a few soft squeezes, and encouraging massage. He felt the Soldier's body shudder against him, and his arm loosed around him. Engineer suddenly feared the shock had somehow killed the mood for him. But instead, his large paw traveled down the texan's thigh, along his sensitive lower belly, and down to his member. Giving them a few strokes.  
  
“Do you want this to end too quickly, greasemonkey?” he hissed against his ear, his deep voice breathless and edged with a tensed note. Engineer let go of him in favor of holding onto his hipbone again. Soldier's hand was rough and unforgiving on his dick, squeezing, stroking hard.  
  
“Ungh, Solly, c'mon - “ he panted.  
“Come on, what?” he snarled.   
“K-Keep movin', _oh god_ , keep movin', will ya?”   
  
Soldier complied, his hips resuming the pace they had left at, pushing quick and deep into him, hand around him, stroking relentlessly. The pleasure he experienced before came sky-rocketing back into his body much more intense and threatening to succumb him. At this point Soldiers hand didn't even need to move, Engineer was rocking back at forth pushing hard against Soldier's thick member and thrusting into the tight channel Soldier created for him.  
  
It started becoming too much for him to handle anymore. Heat spread like fire through his body, his knees buckling, fingers clawing at the locker door, his head blissfully empty and filled with cotton in the shape of little soldiers . His release was so palpable he was beginning to become dizzy. Suddenly it was there and he threw his head back with a strangled groan. Shooting hotly in and around the Soldier's hand, staining the locker door, he was hit by wave after wave of his release, its vice grip holding onto his body.   
  
Even as he was milked to the last drop, Soldier pumped himself harder into him, quicker, deeper. His huffs began to form into mindless moans and groans, joining Engineer's noises of satisfaction. And suddenly he was there too – arms let go of anything it held, and wrapped around the Engineer's form, embracing him like a shield as he buried himself to the hilt into him, hollering as he too found his release. Hips stuttered as he kept thrusting uncoordinated into him. He felt him hotly spilling into him, and suddenly it was all over.  
  
They were left with the mind numbing feeling of post-orgasmic buzzing deep in their bones. Engineer found himself leaning heavily against the Soldier's form, head rested against his broad shoulder. Fuck. He felt completely out of breath. The air he breathed was hot despite the room being cold, and it smelled of sex, leather and gunpowder, and just... _him._ Just him.  
  
  
And _he_ was suddenly becoming heavy. _Very heavy._   
  
  
“W-Whoa, hey, Soldier!” Engineer found his voice again, stabilizing himself on his feet as he noticed the Soldier was motionlessly slumping against him and threatening to squish him against the lockers. He nudged the man with his elbow into his side until Soldier regained his consciousness.  
  
“W-Whu – wha – “ he grunted.  
“Don'cha fall asleep on me, Mister.” Engineer laughed, and finally faced the man again, letting his sweaty back rest against the cold locker door, and his hands holding onto Soldier's shoulders to keep him from collapsing.  
  
“Hrm. What? No. I'm not falling asleep...” Soldier muttered, hand rubbing at his eyes beneath the helmet. Engineer's heart made a strange flop inside his chest. Had he ever thought of the soldier as endearing? Probably not. But right now, Engineer just couldn't help but laugh. His hands stroked soothingly along his sweaty skin.   
  
“Ah think it's time we lie down. S'been a rough day, hm?”  Standing on his toes, he pressed a quick sweet kiss to the man's lips. “Let's get dressed.”  
  
Engineer walked past the Soldier to the pile of clothes he had discarded, sitting down on the bench. Yikes. Forgot it was still a bit sensitive there, but he managed with a grimace, cleaning himself up carelessly with his wifebeater and bundling it up. He was pulling on his underwear when he noticed Soldier seemed still a bit dazed, his fingers softly touching his lips.   
  
“Yer okay, Sal?” he asked.  
Soldier snapped out of it almost immediately.  “Yessir.” he nodded quickly, and sat down on the bench next to him. Engineer offered his wifebeater as a towel for the man and he gratefully took it to rub his hand clean. 

  
Engineer didn't know what it was, but a sense of familiarity washed over him. Maybe that's why he found himself softly admitting: “Missed ya, Soldier.”  
Soldier looked at him for a while. Then nodded. He didn't speak it out but Engineer was sure he felt the same.

 

 

 


End file.
